


Journey To The West

by dumbledearme



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Adventure, Blood, DBZ, Dragon Ball Z - Freeform, Drama, Intense, Multi, Romance, Truth, dragon ball - Freeform, hero - Freeform, mystoryarc, myversionofevents, saga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4169559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbledearme/pseuds/dumbledearme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"At that time, they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory." (Luke 21:27)</p><p> </p><p>Of a good beginning cometh a good end, Grandpa Gohan would often say. Thinking about his words, Goku felt something warm around him, like a good old embrace he hadn't quite let go of yet. He thought of Chichi and all the other good things he had come to know. He looked down while it was still time and saw the others waving at him. He waved back.</p><p>No, this wasn't goodbye. He was sure he would see them again. His companions, his friends, his family.</p><p>The world was but a little place, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue—The Land Beyond Time

**Author's Note:**

> (I've post this in other websites—username—dumbledearme)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am. This is my retelling the great adventures of Dragon Ball for whoever is interest in reliving them with me. Dragon Ball means the world to me and I had the best time doing this.
> 
> Disclaimer: this is just for fun—no gain intended. I don't own anything, not the world, not the characters, not the story. Original lines included and a little character backstory.
> 
> Note: In order to make the characters seem more real, I changed a few things about them. For example, Bulma is described as having blonde hair, not blue. Why? Because that's how I imagine her, I don't know. Characters that are originally animals in the anime/manga are people here with some aspects to the animal they were supposed to be; like Oolong is a filthy man and Shu is a red-headed—this sort of thing.
> 
> Note2: I decided, for lyrical effect only, that the sayan race will have ebony hair and icy blue eyes. It fits the story better if they have a certain look about them that sets them apart—other than the tail, obviously. This doesn't impact the story in any way and I hope it makes no difference for you guys in the long run. After all, no matter how I describe my characters, if you enjoy the story you have the freedom to imagine them however you like it, too.
> 
> Hope this goes well xxxxxxxx

For many years Son Gohan had lived alone. He was a short, stubby old man now, with dark eyes and a bushy white mustache. He hadn't always been like this. Once he’d been strong and fit, when he practiced his martial arts, and had been known for defeating extraordinary foes. But his deeds were forgotten now, as was he, and he had exiled himself to a far away land, a beautiful and mysterious place that was beyond time itself. This region, far from civilization, was called Mount Paozu.

Whatever drove him away—whatever it was that led Son Gohan to Mount Paozu—no one ever cared to know. He had been a man of beliefs, he had seen more than regular folk and he had been good and kind even to his enemies, if there ever truly were any. But he was also alone and his faith in humanity was lost.

This story actually begins on a very hot day. The sun was high up the cloudless blue sky and Son Gohan decided to enjoy this blessing with a hike. He was skilled and had very strong legs that helped him climb the mountains near Mount Paozu. He had half a mind to go fishing in the afternoon, have some tea and maybe read a book—it was just another ordinary day in his uneventful little life.

In the forest there was a clearing and in this clearing there was a crater. Something had destroyed good part of the vegetation of the area and caused a great implosion. Son Gohan wouldn’t call himself curious, but even he could not help himself. He headed toward the crater and looked down and what he saw made his old heart race.

A white iron sphere, the size of a small car, idle for all effects. Breathing heavily, Son Gohan carefully stepped down the crater and studied the object with a surgeon’s care. The world had changed, it was true, but Gohan had followed most of those changes. He had seen the creation of hoi poi capsules, of cars and motorcycles moved by vapor and pressure. He had watched the living world turn into this— this machine—not even, just… part of one. Yet, what he saw now looked so—so alien—so unfit to have been made by human hands.

Gohan placed a hand on the white surface and felt the warmth of the object. Whatever the thing was, it seemed new. This had probably just happened. Why he hadn’t heard or seen anything, he couldn’t understand how, but he knew there were more to it than just what he could see. As if on cue, a cry echoed on the crater making the hairs on his neck rise.

The old man circled the thing and found the source of the noise. There was a small opening on the iron sphere, a round broken window of sorts, and through it he saw a bundle of blankets moving, struggling, crying out for help. Against his better judgment, Son Gohan reached inside and took the baby in his arms. The little guy made a sound of appreciation but began squirming and shouting and thrashing, until the blankets fell to the ground revealing a brown monkey tail sprouting out of the his sacrum, like a prolongation of his coccyx.

Son Gohan stretched his arms and watched the baby struggling in the air. He was a fighter, alright. But he was also a newborn, a child abandoned, devoid of a family, of a home, unloved, alone. Much like Son Gohan. Oh how he had wished for something like this a while back, how he had prayed for someone who could fill the void he had in his heart! He hadn’t expected to be granted this wish, but it felt much like fate and Son Gohan wasn’t ready to show ungratefulness to the universe. This had to be a sign, it had to mean something. Whatever he was and wherever he had come from, this baby was now his and Son Gohan was responsible for his life.

The old man picked up the blanket and wrapped it tightly around the baby so he could hold him properly. The boy was not happy about the arrangements, but Son Gohan whistled merrily all the way back home. He washed and nursed the boy, ignoring his wild nature, turning a blind eye to the unusual rage of such a young little thing, overjoyed to have someone to talk to, someone to care for.

He fed the child and put it to bed. His small home had only one of those but Son Gohan was prepared to share it with the devious baby. Trying to calm his nerves, the old man told him his favorite night time story: Journey to the West.

“Far across the Eastern Sea,” it began, “on the island called the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, a magic boulder had sat on the mountain’s peak since the creation of the world. Bathed in the energies of Earth and Heaven, quickened by the light of Sun and Moon, the stone became fertile, and at last cracked open to release its young. From this stone egg emerged a full-grown monkey. As it gazed about and above, golden light shot from its eyes to the farthest reaches of Heaven and Earth.”

Son Gohan doubted the child to be even listening, but he convinced himself his sobs seemed quieter. So he resumed the tale and told the boy how Sun Wukong, after being born from the stone nourished by the Five Elements, learned the art of the Tao, polymorphic transformations, combat, and secrets of immortality, and through guile and force made a name for himself, Qitian Dasheng. Both of them fell asleep dreaming of those adventures, and when Son Gohan woke up, still with such thoughts in his head, he decided to name the boy after the Monkey King.

Their relationship, however, did not improve with time. Son Goku remained restless, ill-tempered and strangely violent for a baby, and Gohan’s patience began to wear out. But just as he was about to lose faith, something else happened, something that almost broke the old man’s spirit altogether.

Son Gohan hadn’t stopped taking strolls and hiking through the woods and he often brought the boy with him, inside a basket strapped to his back. He thought the sight of the mountains and the fresh air would do Goku some good. But Goku was so troubled, fussy and uneasy, he ended up falling from the basket into a ravine near the outskirts of Mount Paozu.

Almost blinded with grief, Son Gohan retrieved the boy from the ravine and took him home. Goku had hit his head and the severe head trauma had set him into a coma nearly killing him, but the good old man refused to lose his only friend. He nursed the boy day and night and did not give up and did not give in. Not once.

His perseverance, along with the boy inhuman strength, led to Goku’s full recovery. But when he finally opened his dark eyes to gaze at his savior, something… changed. Son Gohan wasn’t sure if something had been awaken or if something had died within the boy, what he knew was what he saw, and what he saw was the pleasing glimmer of innocence reborn. Goku, once so bad tempered and vile, was now kind-hearted and pure. Not a single bad thought crossed his mind, not a single bad word crossed his lips. He smiled more, he laughed loudly, and he proved himself capable of much more love and loyalty than regular people.

Believing his dreams had finally come true, Son Gohan vowed never to lose faith again. He would stay true. He would not waver.

The years went by and both old and youth prospered on that forgotten land. Gohan taught the boy everything he knew. During the day, lessons on how to be a man and how to be a warrior. At night, stories of a world unknown, of places that never were. Those would turn out to be the greatest years of the old man’s life.

When Goku turned eleven, Gohan gave him something amazing, something he had collected on a very unusual way, much like the boy. The night was cold, a storm was brewing. Both sat together; young Goku watching curiously as Son Gohan handed him an orange sphere. It was small enough to fit his palm, and it shone so brightly Goku had troubled looking directly at it. When he focused his eyes, he saw that in the center of the sphere, four red stars floated aimlessly.

“What is it?” asked Goku eagerly studying the ball.

“That you must find out for yourself,” the old man replied. “I believe it is a large variety of things. It is what you need it to be. I’ve had it for many years now and to me, it has revealed itself as the humility of gentlemen and the pride of warriors. Together, they have unfathomable power. Keep it always with you, Goku. Keep it safe. I promised you, son, it’ll be worth it.”

They smiled at each other and enjoyed the rest of their night with more tales and adventures. But that very night had already been written and it did not end well. The fullest moon shone in the night’s sky, brighter than ever, high above Son Gohan’s little cottage. He didn’t know what expected him, he couldn’t have known.

But his last day on Earth couldn’t have been better spent.

***

On the other side of the world, in West City, someone else noticed the huge moon. She thought it was a sign. She was only twelve years old, but since even younger she had always looked for signs here and there. People said fate was set to stone and couldn’t be changed, but she believed her bright intellect could perhaps, temper with it, maybe even improve it.

The wind came howling and blew the turquoise hair away from her face. She inhaled trying to calm her nerves. Then she glanced at the orange sphere in her hand. Two red stars floated in its depths and the lack of knowledge as to what it all meant was driving her nuts.

Making her decision, she pulled a rubber band from her left wrist and wrapped her hair in a tight ponytail. She glanced at the moon one last time before marching inside the house. She descended a hundred and eleven steps into the darkest, dustiest attic and started roaming around boxes trying to find what she needed.

She didn’t know much back then, but one thing she was sure of: destinies were about to change.


	2. Chapter One—The Secret Dragon Balls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act I—Journey to the West

Goku sat on the floor, almost at the end of his meditation routine. He was so relaxed he didn’t even feel the time rushing by. It wasn’t until his stomach growled that he realized lunch time had already come and go. His eyes shot open, setting on the other side of the room where his orange sphere lied in the pedestal he had built for it.

“Bring me luck, Grandpa,” he asked, getting up. The sphere seemed to glisten and Goku’s eyes widened. It had never done that before. It was almost as if it had understood him, as if it was trying to communicate with him.

Goku shook his head. That was crazy. The sphere couldn’t talk. Nothing around him ever did. He was used to it though and more often than not told stories and tales to inanimate objects, sometimes just to be sure he still knew how to speak, sometimes to remember how his voice sounded like.

The thought made him grimace. There was no point dwelling on that. He was alone, he would forever be alone, and that was the end of it. There was nothing to be done. His grandfather was gone, he had left him alone and Goku was starting to believe that maybe that was the way he deserved to be. Mayhaps he hadn’t been as good as he ought to have. And this could as well be his punishment.

Outside, Goku inhaled the fresh air. He lingered at the door, feeling the touch of the sun on his face.

“Today will be better,” he muttered as he always did before leaving the cottage. At first, it was the only way for him to gather the strength to keep moving from the loss of his grandpa. He had been so sad, so young, so alone. Everything had felt meaningless for a while. But once he realized that was not how Grandpa Gohan would’ve wanted for him to be, Goku changed things. He prepared a tough routine that kept him busy, which left him with no more time to grieve.

Now, it was more like a prayer, a wish. He often wished for things to be better. He dreamed of change. He feared that if nothing ever happened he would die doing the same thing, again and again, until he found no joy in little acts, until he was unable to smell the flowers, to climb the trees, to hunt, to fish, to run, to fight. Until there was nothing left of him and his memory was gone, and whatever remains he possessed of Son Gohan disappeared forever.  
***

Driving was perhaps the best part of being sixteen. The wind in her hair, the power she had over the wheel—it made her feel like such a grown up. She had been forced to promise her parents she would be careful, but now, so far away from home, whatever she had sworn hardly seemed to matter.

The increasing speed brought a smile to her face. You couldn’t race just anywhere. This was one of the first places she had gone to where there was not a living soul. Forest spread to both sides of the road and all she could do was keep moving forward.

The Radar beeped and she glanced down. It wasn’t the most sophisticated device—in fact, it was very simple—but she doubted you could find any better. As far as she was concerned that was the first tracking device with the purpose of finding what she sought. She felt strangely attached to the thing—she had built it herself, without her father’s help this time.

Pride made her smile wider. And even better news, the Radar said the next one was closer than she had anticipated. Amazed at her own wit, she returned her eyes to the road a second too late and the Jeep hit someone—the hard body went flying and hit the ground with a sickening thud. She slammed her feet on the brakes and the tires made the asphalt scream.

She took several deep breaths before she mustered the courage to get out of the Jeep. Her legs trembled, but she walked toward the fallen person lying on the ground.

“Oh, shit…” she blinked away a few tears. She knew she should try to help him, but she could not bring herself to touch him. What if he was dead? How would she explain that to her father? “Please, don’t be dead,” she told the body. “I’m so so sorry…”

A million possibilities went through her head, but she found herself returning to the simplest of them. Maybe, she should just leave him there. He was most likely dead. It wouldn’t make a difference if she told anybody or if she moved him—not to him anyway. It all happened so fast, she could hardly be called to blame. 

Her plan was shattered when he moaned softly. She gasped. He sat down caressing his head like he had hit it on his bedroom shelf or something. His nose was slightly bloody, but he stood up, apparently unhurt, and passed right through her. She watched him in shock as he raised her Jeep over his head, with his bare hands, and threw it at the nearest pine tree.

“Hey!” she shouted as her transportation was turned into a huge mass of iron, glass and tires. “You little shit! What are you—You’re fine! How are you fine?”

Before she could yell some more, he was standing before her, holding some sort of baton threateningly at her face. “Who are you and how did you get here?” She must have gaped at him for way too long because he repeated the question, this time more urgently. “I’ve already killed your metal monster, so you better answer me!”

She measured her next words very carefully. “Are you retarded?” It was his time to gawk. “I am a human being,” she said loudly to make sure he understood. “That was my car. And I didn’t realize this was a private property. Had I know you lived here, you crazy moron, I wouldn’t have been so careless.”

He studied her with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. “You’re… strange,” he decided. “You do look like me only… different.”

“Yes, slightly,” she said trying to keep the sarcasm to a minimum. “You are a very good observer.” He waited, obviously hoping she’d be more clear. “I’m a girl,” she said at last.

“Oh, of course!” he exclaimed, every trace of suspicion leaving his face. “I knew that,” he added weakly, putting his baton down. “It’s just—You’re a girl! The first girl I’ve ever seen. Well, you’re also the first human I’ve ever seen, beside my grandpa, I mean,” he blabbed suddenly very enthusiastically. “What are you doing here? I’m inclined to help you. Just name it, whatever you need. Since you’re a girl, I suppose I have no choice but to be very gentle with you.”

She sneered. “You threw my car into a tree. I believe is a little late for gentle.”

He moved excitedly from one feet to the other as if the ground was burning his feet. “A car—that was a car! But of course I knew that… I mean, Grandpa says they’re very useful. He says we can find cars in the uh—in the—what is that word—city! Yes. I think that’s the right one.”

“Boy, you’re smart,” she said, for the first time paying real attention to him. His clothes were pretty ordinary and his manners and his lack of knowledge told her he must have led a very simple life. His curly hair was black as coal, he was slightly shorter than her though he didn’t look much younger, and he was broad-shouldered and thick legged which indicated he would still grow. “And strong,” she smiled charmingly. “You threw my Jeep into a tree after all, didn’t you? Good times. So listen, I’d love to stay and chat, kid, but I’d love more to just leave. Sorry. Bye.”

“My grandpa’s really strong too,” he said as she turned her back to walk away. She shook her head wondering if he had heard anything she had just said. “He was a master of the martial arts.”

She came to a halt and cursed under her breath. The kid was annoying but he seemed altogether harmless. And if what he said was true it was a great opportunity for her. She could spare a day or two to train with a martial arts’ master. She had been driving for five days straight; she was starting to feel a little stiff.

She turned around again to face him. “Right. So I was wondering… Would you be so kind—I mean gentle—whatever—as to take me to your grandpa? I’d like to meet him.”

The boy glanced at his own shoes. “He’s dead.”

“He’s—what?”

“Four years ago,” he nodded as if assuring himself. “Um, I was trying to keep quiet about it, but I’m gonna have to ask you… don’t girls have tails?”

She blinked. Had she stepped into crazy town?

“I beg you a pardon?”

“You don’t have to beg.”

“I—” she choked when she saw it. The brown tail moved around him like a disgusting hairy snake, coming straight from his— “Oh, that is so wrong.”

“What should I call you?” the boy asked unaware of her distaste.

She swallowed and reached out her hand. “Bulma Briefs.”

“I’m Son Goku,” he told her. He moved around staring puzzled at her hand.

“You’re supposed to shake it,” she snapped. He shook it.

“Come with me, Bulma Briefs,” he said energetically. “I will feed you.”

“You’ll feed me? To sharks, you mean?”

“No!” he said outraged. “I would never do that to a girl. I only meant I’ll… cook you food.” He spoke slowly as if unsure that the words were right.

Bulma sighed. “Hell, as long as you’re the one doing the cooking. But let me warn you, Monkey Boy, I’m a fighter, too. So don’t think about coming on me with your superman strength or your dirty little boy thoughts, ‘cause I will kick your ass.”

“My what?”

“Let’s just go.”  
***

She walked slowly behind him and Goku found her mistrust unsettling. After all, he had just met her, she had ran him over with a car, and yet he trusted her undoubtedly.

She was obviously very pretty,even he could tell that. Her skin was rosy and her face was thin, marked with large, gray eyes that seemed to contain a storm inside them. The color of her hair was so fascinating he could barely look away. And the way it moved around her face, it seemed so soft. She wore simple clothes, like the ones he owned, jeans and a pink shirt that she had probably bought when she was very little because it didn’t fit her anymore—he could see her navel! She wore black boots and had a strange sort of belt with a dozen pockets around her waist, and carried a purple backpack.

“This is my home,” he said when they arrived at the cottage. She muttered something that he thought sounded like 'cute’ but didn’t show any real interest. Inside, he headed straight to the pedestal and brushed the sphere lightly with his thumb. “Look, Grandpa, a girl!”

“Didn’t you say your grandpa is dead?” Bulma asked, her eyes darting around the room until she set them on the sphere. A strange sound escaped her lips and she rushed forward, her arms outstretched. “You have a Dragon Ball!”

When her hand touched the sphere, it glowed even brighter. Goku, forgetting his manners, wrenched the ball from her hands. “You can’t touch my grandpa.”

An odd sort of smile crept into her face. “Are you insane? You think the ball is your grandpa? Well, pal, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but—”

“I don’t think the ball is my grandpa,” he said quickly, his cheeks reddening. “I just—” he hesitated. How to make her understand? “My grandpa gave me this right before he died and not even a girl is allowed to touch it. It has great value to me. I just don’t understand why is shining so bright…” he looked at the ball with difficulty. “It’s never done this before.”

“Oh, silly, it’s reacting to mine.” She removed her backpack and set it on the ground. She opened it and brought out two orange spheres that looked just like Goku’s.

“You have two grandpas?” he exclaimed before he could stop himself.

“They aren’t—” She shook her head. “You say it’s valuable to you, yet you don’t even know what it is!”

“I just don’t know how to call it,” he explained. “I never knew there were more. What are they?”

There was a glimmer in her eyes almost as bright as the glow from the spheres. “They’re Dragon Balls.” Goku mouthed the words with affection. So that’s what it was. Surely his grandpa hadn’t know or he would’ve told Goku. “There are seven of them scattered around the world,” she continued. “I found Ryanshinchu in my attic, four years ago. For you, is the two stars ball. I was so fascinated by it I started to research how to find the others and I discovered many incredible stories. Not long ago, I found the five stars ball, the Ushinchu, near the North Valley.”

His head was spinning. He fought the urge to ask her to repeat everything. “I don’t… What do you do with them? What are they for?”

Bulma smirked. “Would you really like to know? Ignorance is a bliss. Are you sure you want to listen to this?”

Goku nodded. He had never been so sure of anything in his life. “I want to hear it,” he told her.  
***

Located in the western part of Diablo Desert near the Mushroom Forest was the Emperor’s castle. It was an ugly piece of architecture, but it served its purposes well enough. The traps it held had never once failed and the thick walls kept the air inside cool and dry.

The short blue man paced around the main room. His skin was that of a frog—cold, hairless, slimy. He wore a dark frock and a silly little cap—like a fool’s—that he thought was a royal crown. The doors opened abruptly and his two henchmen rushed in. The Emperor sat on his throne and watched them approach to kneel before him.

Mai was a fairly tall woman—which infuriated the Emperor—with blue eyes and long black hair with bangs. She wore a teal trench coat, beige slacks and brown combat boots. The man, Shu, as he called himself, was short for a man—although still taller than the Emperor—and he wore a ninja uniform to disguise his total lack of skill. Also, his hair was reddish and the Emperor hated red. He had sworn never to trust a ginger.

The Emperor waited patiently as Mai removed the orange sphere from her pocket and handed it to him with a strange curtsy.

“After so long,” he muttered to himself. “So long waiting. I finally possess the ball. Now my desires can come true.”

Shu gasped and Mai cleared her throat nervously. The Emperor removed his eyes from the ball and set them on her.

“I’m sorry, my lord…” she whispered. “I thought you understood. This is a real Dragon Ball, sire, it is true, but—”  
“But what?” he demanded. “Speak, Mai!”

“It has no use to you, sire, without the other six. It only works when they’re all together!”

The atmosphere in the room shifted, the temperature dropped. The Emperor felt his breathing turn superficial, red spots danced before his eyes. He felt faint.

“I need… seven?” he asked slowly.

The two henchmen were taken aback by his roar of fury.  
***

Goku served her another cup of tea, annoyed she had insisted on eating before explaining everything to him. They sat on cushions around the low table, and all Bulma did was criticize his food. The three Dragon Balls rested between the two of them.

“Tell me about them,” he asked once more.

She licked her lips before speaking. “They’re scattered all over the world and when brought together, Shenron appears, the great Dragon God, and grants you a wish,” she said simply, as if it was no more interesting than Goku’s cooking.

“That’s amazing,” he said. “If I find the seven Dragon Balls all my dreams will come true? I can bring my grandpa back to life?”

She hesitated. “Well… I suppose…” she shrugged. “I mean, it only gives you a single wish. But it can be whatever you want in the world. The last man to find them became king.”

Goku pondered her words. “But they can be anywhere, you said? Anywhere in the whole wide world?”

She frowned. “You didn’t think it would be easy, did you?”

“You said they have names. Do you know mine’s?”

Both of them eyed the four stars ball. “That’s Sushinchu,” she said. Goku saw the glimmer return to her blue eyes and understood how much she longed for them. She caught him staring and her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“What would you wish for?”

She faltered, obviously caught off guard. “I don’t know, kid. Maybe I’d wish for… Somebody with whom I could… somebody to understand...” she stammered and tried to sound like it was no big deal, but her cheeks turned a deep shade of red and she cast her eyes down. “You’re gonna have to hand me the Sushinchu, you know.”

“No way!” Goku grabbed his Dragon Ball and held it close to his chest. “It’s the only thing I’ve left from my grandfather. I am not giving it to you. I was a gift.”

“Oh, please. That is very sweet and everything, but let’s be honest here, you don’t need it!”

Goku shook his head. “There is nothing you can say that’ll make me give it to you.”

“Are you sure?” she asked provocatively. She threw her shoulders back and leaned over the table accentuating the size of her breasts.

Goku inhaled. “I’m sure.”

“Fine!” she snapped. Bulma crossed her arms and seemed to think for a minute. Goku could almost see the gears turning inside her head. “Come with me, then,” she said at last. “We’ll find them together.”

Goku eyed her—for the first time—with distrust. “What’s in it for me?”

She feigned astonishment. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I am offering a chance in a lifetime for a boy like you! You cannot possibly have something better to do.”

“I don’t,” said Goku honestly. How he had earned for an opportunity of the kind. He wanted to trust Bulma so badly, but still he feared for his Dragon Ball. He didn’t want to part with it. It was the only thing that kept him company, that brought him any closure. It was all he had in the world. Yet, here she was, a real flesh and bone person who wanted—or needed—his company. Someone who would speak to him, answer him, show him a new realm of possibilities.

“See?” she said almost as if reading his mind. “Besides, it’s educational. You’ll learn the ways of the world. You’ll become a man. All you have to do is come with me and you’ll see things you’ve never dreamed of.”

Even without the charm she was carefully putting to her words, Goku knew he had already made up his mind. There was no way to refuse a girl like Bulma. His skin tingled with anxiety, but he said firmly, “Deal.”


	3. Chapter Two—The Emperor's Quest

Goku glanced at his tiny, old cottage one last time. He had packed a light backpack and followed Bulma outside where she was making a big deal out of stretching. He watched her for a while until she bent over—his cheeks warmed up and he turned away.

"How do we find them, Bulma?" he asked her. "We don't know where to look."

She straightened up and scowled. "You don't know where to look."

"You do?"

"I am not just a pretty face," she said, her hands on her hips. Then she added, "Though I am gorgeous." She reached into her pocket belt, brought out a round looking object and handed it to him.

Goku studied it, puzzled. It was white and metallic, no bigger than a Dragon Ball but flat, and it had a single button at the top. Bulma pressed it and immediately a greenish screen appeared revealing a map, focusing on three golden points that were agglomerated together.

"This is the Dragon Radar," she said, her voice full of pride. "My design. While doing my research I noticed that the Dragon Balls release a strong electromagnetic force, so I built something that detects said force even if they happen to be immersed into the deepest ocean or under the thickest rock. You see here," she gestured at the three golden points, "it's showing our three Dragon Balls. But if you press this,"—she pressed the top button again—"it shows the others. The closest one is at 1200 miles west."

Goku realized his mouth was open and quickly closed it. "Cool," he said. "But how will we get there?"

She shrugged. "Since you've destroyed my Jeep, we'll go by wasp."

Bulma reached for her pocket belt again and took out a small white box. Inside there were several mini capsules, the kind Grandpa Gohan had called "city medicine". Bulma casually chose one and said, "Step back." Then she threw the capsule a few meters away. Within seconds, before reaching the ground, the mini capsule transformed into a wasp.

"What kind of sorcery is this?" he almost shouted.

"Keep your pants on," she said. "It's a hoi-poi capsule. Everyone has a set. But only I have the real rare ones. My dad is the creator. His father was the founder of Capsule Corporation. It's a family business. Now, are you ready to say goodbye to your old life or what?"

Goku took a deep breath and decided to embrace the strangeness that surrounded that single girl. "Yeah, I'm ready." They both climbed on the wasp and Bulma accelerated without letting him know how fast the thing actually was. Trying not to fall off, he wrapped his arms around her waist. She stiffened but didn't say anything and he wouldn't have cared if she did.

Riding took all day. The wasp wasn't comfortable at all and Goku's butt was feeling rather square when Bulma suddenly made the wasp come to a halt. They both climbed out. "Are we camping here?" Goku asked absorbing their surroundings. The road crossed path between the forest and the mountains. It didn't seem like a particularly good place to sleep safe and sound.

Bulma was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "You're gonna have to excuse me," she said. "Just a little bit."

Goku raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think I'm going?" she snapped. "Are you that clueless?"

He watched her carefully and the sides of his mouth twitched. "I see..." he said. "You've gotta pee."

The storm in her eyes seemed to intensify. "See here, Monkey Boy—”

Goku raised his hands in surrender. "Now, Bulma, don't be ashamed. Everyone pees, I'm told. Are you going into the woods?"

Bulma stood straight and lifted her chin with dignity. "Yes, Goku. I had a hoi-poi capsule for that but—Nevermind. That's beside the point. Now can you or can you not excuse me? It doesn't please me to have people watching me pee."

"You're excused," said he letting the amusement show in his words. Bulma's eye twitched. She turned around and stormed into the forest. Goku stood and waited, but Bulma did not come back. He counted up to a hundred and still she did not return. "Bulma?" he called, but there was no answer. Goku rolled his eyes. The sky was getting darker and darker and soon it would be impossible to find her.

He took one step toward the forest and hesitated. Could she possibly still be peeing? She drunk all that tea and kept asking for more. "Bulma?" he called once more. When there was no answer, he marched into the forest.

Goku counted one hundred steps until he reached a clearing. It was dark but still he could see the giant Pterodactyl clutching Bulma in its paw. She saw him and her eyes widened. She struggled trying to free her mouth, but the Pterodactyl noticed Goku as well and set out flying.

With her mouth finally free, Bulma shouted, "SAVE ME, YOU BASTARD!"

Goku ran back to the wasp as fast as he could. He wasn't quite sure how to pilot the thing but he seemed to have pressed all the right buttons because the wasp went forward at high speed. He looked up and followed the Pterodactyl through the woods doing his best not to hit any trees on the way.

A few meters ahead of him there was a stone inclined like a ramp. A plan formed in his head and he increased the speed of the wasp. It went over the ramp and up and up. Goku stood and made a jump for it. Always strapped on his back was his baton—he grabbed it midair and hit the Pterodactyl on the head with it. It howled and dropped Bulma who went down, screaming. Goku caught her and fell swiftly on his feet.

He hoped for praises, maybe the sound of applause, but the beautiful girl in his arms was unconscious. Goku sighed. Then he noticed something else—Bulma's jeans were soaked wet. Goku smiled, enjoying the moment. He knew she wouldn't let him speak of this ever and would deny it if he did. At least he could laugh now while she was unable to scold him for it.  
***

It had not been a good day. She had ran over Monkey Boy. Lost her Jeep. Found out Monkey Boy had the Dragon Ball she needed and would not hand it to her. Regretted not killing Monkey Boy. Scolded herself for having such wicked thoughts. Convinced Monkey Boy to accompany her in her journey in the hope to use his Dragon Ball when the time came. Had to admit she needed to pee. Been kidnapped by a Pterodactyl who didn't let her pee first. Peed in her pants.

Bulma exhaled sharply.

"I'm starving, really," complained Goku, his stomach growling just to emphasize his point.

"I heard you the first ten times," she said. "I suppose we might as well spend the night here." Even though there are Pterodactyls in the woods, she added in her mind. "You've destroyed yet another mean of transportation."

"I was saving you," he shrugged.

"Yes, and I thanked you already. Stop throwing it in my face."

He nodded. "Fine. I'll look for something to eat. You can gather firework."

"There's no way in hell I'm going back in there," she said desperately. She tried to recompose herself which was hard—the wet pants being a reminder of her little accident. "I mean... What? You expect me to lie on the ground and sleep? You're such a primate."

Bulma reached into her pocket belt where she kept her most precious things and took out the box of capsules.  
Goku started to say: "There's no way you can take a house—"

Bulma ignored him. She picked the right capsule and threw it. It brought her such satisfaction to see the look on his face as it turned into a hoi-poi house. With a humph, she marched inside. All hoi-poi houses were identical. Perfectly furnished, with a fireplace, a TV, a bathtub.

"How'd you do that?" asked Goku following her inside. He kept touching the objects to make sure they were real and glancing at her with his icy eyes and going like what’s this and what’s that.

"You're worse than Tarzan," she told him. "Shower before dinner, Goku. This is civilization right here."

"Shower?" he said the word as if it was completely alien.

An awful thought occurred to her. "You haven't—You don't know—" she sighed. "How do you clean yourself? Do you even bother?"

"Of course I clean myself," he said offended. "I swim. Grandpa said it was important, at least once a day."

"Oh, goody," she said. "Okay, I'll probably regret this, but... Come with me. I'll show you how."  
***

Shu burst into the throne room startling the Emperor.

"What do you want?" Pilaf demanded. "You should've knocked. Where's your respect?"

Shu stumbled. "Forgive me, my lord. I was so excited to tell you the news, I went and forgot my manners, your honor—"

"Shut up," ordered the Emperor. "I don't want your apologies. Give the information I require! No more mistakes will be tolerated, Shu. Have you, or have you not, brought me another sphere?"

The henchman's upper lip trembled. "I… My lord, please. Have mercy..."

"You disappoint me, Shu," said Pilaf. "Profoundly. I wonder what you'll do to compensate your failures...?"

Shu got to his knees. "I'll work harder, my lord, I will! I'll find the other balls."

The Emperor studied his minion. "I don't ask for much, Shu. All I want is to be the Supreme Dictator of this realm. How hard can that possibly be?"

"You're right," the other said quickly. "And you'll be it, Excellency."

"Not if I depend on you, I won't."

Shu twisted his hands, his eyes always cast down. "Please, sir..." he said weakly. "I'll find them. Even if I have to search all of—"

Pilaf made a tsking sound. "Perhaps I should end this now," he said calmly. "Cut your fingers, one by one, so you'll remember why you have to succeed on your tasks and what you'll lose if you don't."

"Please—"

"You could be an example for Mai," the Emperor added.

Shu risked a look at his master. "Do not hurt me," he pleaded. "I beg of you. I'll find them. I swear I will."

Pilaf was about to answer when Mai entered the throne room. "Your honor," she bowed.

"Right on time, Mai," he greeted. "We're about to see Shu bleed. Unless you have good news to deliver."

Mai hesitated. "My lord, I did not find them."

"Pity."

"But," she quickly added, "a hundred miles North, there's a place called Valley of Bones, or Skull Valley. They say it's a horrible place and that anyone who sets foot there cannot leave."

"Do you have a point or are you just chatting?"

She took a deep breath. "According to the folk that lives in that area, it seems that there's a strange dazzling light that can be seen glowing at night."

Pilaf's eyes widened in appreciation. "You believe it's one of the Dragon Balls?"

"Yes, sir."

Shu stepped in. "We'll find them, my lord. If we look together—"

"Silence," the Emperor ordered. "You go, Mai. And be warned: if not with the sphere, you better not come back at all. And take the ginger man with you. I can't stand his presence any longer."  
***  
Bulma knelt on the floor while filling the bathtub with hot water. She had hoped to just dump the kid in the shower and be done with it, but he decided he wanted to lie down in the tub. "It's looks very comfortable," he had said.

"Okay," she said watching the running water. "You undress and then go—" she turned around to find him already shamelessly naked. “Oh.” Bulma gulped. "Just.. uh… Go inside. Hurry."

Goku sat down inside the tub and relaxed. "This feels good." Bulma grabbed a sponge and washed his back, a little more aggressively than she normally would have. "This tickles," he muttered. "I'm not sure I like it."

"Have you any idea how many boys would kill to have me bathing them?" Goku glanced at her sheepishly like he did whenever she reminded him she was a girl. There was something incredibly adorable about that. "Never mind," she said more kindly. "So tell me... What are you, Goku? Why on Earth do you have this—this disgusting lil' tail of yours?"

He shrugged. "Why don't you have one?" he asked it so casually, as if it was completely normal to have tails.

"You keep forgetting that you're the abnormal one here."

"I'm not sure—" he stammered. "I don't know what that word means."

"It means people don't usually have tails! You shouldn't have one. This is wrong."

As soon as she said, Bulma regretted it. She didn't want to hurt him or offend him or whatever. Afraid of his reaction, she backed away, but Goku merely played with some bubbles and grinned. "I'm starting to think you're a little bit jealous of my tail, Bulma," he said.

And she had been worried about his feelings. "There's nothing special about it," she said nastily.

"I think you like it," he insisted.

Bulma threw the sponge at him. "Well, I don't."

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

That went on for quite some time until they decided to laugh about it. It felt good. Like having a younger brother. Then Goku accidentally got Bulma wet and a water war broke out in the bathroom. When play time was over, Bulma asked him to leave and had a very nice bath all by herself.  
***

Goku was at the dinner table eating the bread Bulma had prepared for him. He shoved it in his mouth while watching her brushing her long blonde hair. "This tastes like nothing," he told her.

"Stop complaining," she complained.

Goku dumped the bread on the table and stood up. "I'm going to get us some real food," he said. "That's why you're so skinny, by the way, you don't eat right."

"I eat just fine," she snapped.

"Tell it to your chicken legs."

"My—" Before she could answer, Goku grabbed his baton and headed outside. To the North he went and found himself surrounded by a valley of skulls, that cracked with every step he took. His grandpa had told him about this place; Valley of Dragons, he had called. It was the place where the dragons abandoned whatever was left of their victims.

He walked for a while until the strangest light crossed the night sky. He watched the oval object lose altitude and land near the hoi-poi house. From the weird thing came out two people—Goku was proud to recognize one of them as a girl.

"Who are you boy?" the man asked. He had an interesting orange color in his hair.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," added the girl. "It's dangerous."

"I'm hunting," Goku answered eyeing them thoughtfully. "Is that a bird?" he asked pointing at the oval object.

"It's an aircraft," the girl said carefully.

"A what?"

"An aircraft!"

Goku frowned. "Not a bird?"

"No, you idiot," shouted the man. "It's not a bird."

His cries echoed around the mountains. The air around them shifted. Not a minute later, several pairs of red eyes appeared.

"You shouldn't have shouted," the girl snapped.

"Sorry," the man said. "What do we do?"

"I don't know," she answered. "But the worst part is...their eyes actually explains the light folks have seen. There is no sphere here!"

She said the last word with such despair the wolves felt her fear. They attacked and the two of them run back to their aircraft. Goku, however, fought the wolves with dexterity. He killed so many of them he lost count. Then he picked the biggest one and carried it back to the hoi-poi house.

"What happened?" Bulma demanded at once. "I heard howls and… and..." her face contorted when she saw his prey.

"Brought a wolf for dinner," he announced.

"Eww."

"Are you sure? Tastes real good."

"You keep that thing away from me."  
***

Bulma spent hours talking to her mother on the computer; the woman just wouldn't shut up. When she finally managed to convince her she was all right, Bulma said goodbye and went to bed. Problem was, Goku was already there.

She headed to a cabinet and brought out some blankets. She set them on the ground. Then she grabbed a white fluffy pillow and hit Goku on the head with it.

"Ouch," he muttered. "This bed is really great. So soft. Nothing like the one we had at the cottage."

"Yes. Shame you won't be sleeping on it, uh?"

Goku sat up. "I can't sleep with you? Why not? I'm sure we can both fit—"

"Get off!" she demanded. Goku pouted but slipped to the ground. Bulma turned off the lights and lied on the bed. Part of her felt bad. She had taken the kid away from home—a kid that was all alone in the world—and now she was making him sleep on the hard floor. Then again, hard ways built character, didn't it? He would probably thank her in a few years.

She sighed and rolled to her side. With the moon light that streamed through the window she could see his silhouette and once again she found herself wondering about the boy's upbringing. Where had he come from? Was he even human?

"How come you only lived with your grandpa?" she asked softly.

He took a few minutes before answering. "He told me I was left in the woods. He found me."

"So you don't know your parents?"

"No," he said hoarsely. "He used to tell me this story... Sun Wukong? You know it?" She said she didn't. "Well, it's about this monkey boy born from a stone in the woods who acquires supernatural powers. He used to say it was about me."

Bulma found herself smiling and stopped. "I wish I could've met him," she said honestly.

"He'd like you. You're okay."

She chuckled. "Well, you're not so bad either."

"Where are your parents?" he asked.

"Home," she almost shrugged. "They're very weird parents. Trust me."

"Aren't they worried about you?"

Bulma thought of her mother demanding to know if she was all right. "They know I can take care of myself. That is... except from Pterodactyls. But you got that covered, right?"

When he didn't answer, she glanced down on him. Goku was fast asleep.

"If you ask a question, the least you can do is hear the answer," she muttered to the boy with the monkey tail.


	4. Chapter Three—The Mighty Master Roshi

"How much longer do you need?"

Goku was leaning against the bedroom wall. He was trying to play it cool, but his back was getting tired of the uncomfortable position. Bulma was sitting in front of a mirror, brushing her hair for what felt like an hour now. 

"Not my fault you decided to rise with the roosters," she said. "I'm older and more sophisticated than you, in case you haven't noticed. You should respect me, Goku. You should call me Miss."

"What are you missing?"

She put the hairbrush down. "You're literally too stupid to insult."

Goku rolled his eyes. "I'll wait for you outside. Don't take long, Bulma. You'll soon be a turtle."

The sun was warm and bright outside the hoi-poi capsule. Goku stretched, wondering what sort of device Bulma would come up with to take them West. That's when he turned around and found himself face-to-face with a great turtle.

It was easily the size of Bulma's wasp. Its skin was greenish, but the hull was brown and it gave the turtle the appearance of a big rock. Its eyes were round and large, strangely human and they pierced Goku with interest and fear.

"Oh, no!" Goku exclaimed. "Bulma? I told you! Being slow can be very dangerous. Now you're a turtle! What am I gonna do? How am I gonna find the Dragon Balls without you?" he danced around the turtle, trying to find a way to bring his friend back.

Bulma came outside the hoi-poi house with a frown. She was still wearing her short, pink nightgown and had no shoes on. "What are you yelling about?" she asked. "Why is there a turtle here? We must be miles from the sea."

"Excuse me?" the turtle said with a deep groan.

Bulma screamed and staggered back. "IT TALKS!" she shouted.

The turtle didn't look offended. Its sad eyes went from Goku to Bulma and back. "Would you care to provide me with seaweed and a bit of salt water?"

Goku shrugged. "I guess."

Bulma grunted. "Am I the only one here disturbed that the turtle can talk? Of course I am. Because I'm the only sane person around!"

"Don't mind her," said Goku to the sad turtle. "She's not a morning person."

"I'm being rude," the turtle said. "Forgive me. I'm Umigame. I'm a turtle."

"Do I look blind to you?" snapped Bulma.

"Sea turtle, actually," continued Umigame paying her no mind. "I got lost a few days ago. I've been wondering for so long... I can't find my way home."

"That's what being lost means," said Bulma. "And you've wondered far, turtle. I believe the sea is around 120 miles South."

Umigame's eyes widened. "120 miles? Now what do I do?"

"How should I know?"

Goku stepped in. "If you like it, I could take you there."

The turtle's kind eyes focused on him. "You'd do that for me?"

"No, he wouldn't!" Bulma said. "No. Because he can't. You can't, Goku. We only have a few weeks to find the Dragon Balls and we can't waste time with lost turtles!"

"You didn't seem worried about wasting time when you were being the turtle, Bulma."

"Don’t be childish!"

"Why do we only have a few weeks?" he asked. He groped his memory for the information, but was almost sure she hadn't mentioned that before.

"I have classes," she said lamely. "School. It's stupid, I know. I'm already smarter than all of them put together. But Mother and Father insist on it. They gave me permission to search for the Dragon Balls until the end of the summer. Now, let's move. This is not our problem."

Goku looked at his own feet. He knew what he had to do. He knew what his grandpa would say. He knew what the right thing was. "You don't want to help, that's fine," he told Bulma. "Then I'm through with you."

A mixture of emotions crossed her perfect face. Goku only recognized a few of them—anger, disbelief, betrayal, hurt. But there was more. The storm in her eyes seemed to have evolved into a tornado. 

"You're not serious," she said, although she knew he was. "You're choosing a turtle over me?"

"I'm sorry," he said and it was true. "I thought we were doing this for the adventure. I didn't realize you were doing it for the prize. If you can't spare time to help those in need then… then I don't think we should do this together. My grandpa said endings don't justify means. I think this is what he meant."

Bulma suddenly looked very small before him. Just a little rich girl with no clue of what she was doing and a bad attitude that didn't help her cause. "You know what?" she snarled. "Go with your turtle! I don't need you. Hell, I don't even like you. Just don't ever—EVER—show your monkey tail at my hoi-poi door ever again!"

Goku was hurt. She was his first friend aside from Grandpa Gohan. But that didn't make her right. Leaving the turtle with no means to return to the ocean was the same as killing it. And Goku couldn't live with that. He picked the huge turtle up and somehow placed it on his back. It was heavier than he had expected, but Goku didn't care. He would manage it. 

"I mean it, Goku," Bulma said, lower this time. "I don't ever want to see you again."

Goku said nothing as he headed South.  
***

Bulma regretted everything the moment she couldn't see him anymore. Who was she kidding? Of course she needed him. He was her first friend aside from mom and dad and Paco, the butler. Yes, he was also annoying, weird and stupid, but they had connected faster than she would've thought possible.

She turned the hoi-poi house back into a mini capsule and brought out her last mean of transportation—a motorcycle.

Soon, she caught up with them. Goku still had that damn turtle on his back and there were beads of sweat on his forehead as he struggled with its weight. Bulma lost speed to keep up with him.

"What happened to never wanting to see me again?" he teased, but he seemed happy to see her.

"You should thank me. I'm only doing this for you," she lied. "You wouldn't survive in this world without me."

"I think it's the opposite," he said eyeing her with mockery. Bulma glanced down at her nightgown. She had left in a hurry. She had remembered however to grab her backpack and the pocket belt, and she had leather boots on. But the sleeping gown was short and it made her self conscious. While she sat on the motorcycle, it barely covered her legs.

That's when a caveman emerged from the woods to their right. His face was violently misshapen and his chest was bare. He wore only some sort of skirt made of animal skin. He carried a long sword that he pointed right at Goku.

"Sea turtles," he said. "My favorite meal."

"He wants to eat me!" Umigame exclaimed.

"Who brought Captain Obvious?" Bulma sneered.

"Hand it over," the caveman ordered. "You may go."

"No one is killing this turtle," said Goku with authority.

"Give it to him and let's be off—" Bulma started to say before biting her lip.

"Listen to your little friend," the caveman growled.

"I refuse to hand the turtle over," said Goku. He put the turtle down gracefully. "If you want to eat my friend, you'll have to go through me."

Bulma tried to stop herself, but her mouth had a life of its own. "Give him the stupid turtle, Goku! The world is full of stupid turtles. I buy you another. I will."

"Then he can go and find himself another turtle," declared the monkey boy. “This one is my friend.” 

The caveman lost his patience and charged at Goku with his sword. The blade swung swiftly and Bulma closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the caveman was knocked out on the ground and Goku was putting Umigame back on his back. 

"We can go now," he said.

"Someday, you'll find someone who'll really kick your monkey ass."

"I can't wait for that," he smiled and she thought he meant it.

"You saved me, Goku," the turtle said startling Bulma. She had already forgotten it could speak. "You saved my hull!"

But Goku didn't want words of appreciation. He kept heading South and Bulma followed on her motorcycle wondering who the hell had been stupid enough to abandon this kid.  
***  
"Do you have it?" the Emperor demanded. His henchmen exchanged a look.

"N-n-no, sire," ventured Shu.

"There was a slight problem on the information you received," explained Mai.

"You mean the information you brought me?" asked Pilaf and she shuddered. That brought a grin to his face.

"Sire, we had to face an entire pack of hungry wolves that forced us to retrieve..."

"Yes," said Shu, nodding with every word. "Wolves, my lord. Lots of them."

"And there was this boy," added Mai. "He was walking on the skulls and then he grabbed a stick and—"

"ENOUGH!" Pilaf's shout echoed around the throne room. "I've had enough. You'll go and find the balls even if it's the last thing you do. Is that anyway unclear?"

"Yes, sir!" said Shu. "I mean, no, sir!"

"I've found another track for you to follow," continued the Emperor. "A man that lives on a small island east from here. That's where we're going."

Mai hesitated. "We... Sir?"

The Emperor stood—which made no difference since he was so small. "Yes, Mai. This time, I'm going with you."  
***

It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing Goku had ever seen. The beach went forever on both directions. The sand was soft and warm. The water's edge was clear and he could see little fishes swimming in it. The sea went on forever as well. All the way South until it reached the horizon.

Goku set the turtle down on the sand and stared amazed at the blue infinity.

"I'm almost home," the turtle chanted. "Oh, my master always says, don't argue with what you really want—"

"No one's arguing," interrupted Bulma.

"How will I ever thank you?" the turtle turned to Goku. "Oh, I know! Can you wait here for a moment? I'll go and fetch my master so he can reward you. I'm sure he will." Before they could speak, Umigame disappeared into the ocean.

"Wait!" Bulma shouted. "We don't have the time. We can’t—aaaaand he's gone."

Goku tasted the sea water and spat it back. "Ugh—Bad."

Bulma sat on the sand, shaking her head. Goku went to sit beside her. Hours went by. The watched the sun go up and down around the sky. To Goku's surprise, Bulma remained silent the whole time, so he did the same, enjoying the day. When they were about to give up on the turtle’s return, Goku spotted Umigame at the horizon. The turtle swam toward them carrying an old man on its hull. The man was bald, with a thick, white, fu manchu mustache and beard. He wore beach clothes—a palm trees printed shirt and khaki shorts, with flip flops on his feet and dark sunglasses on his eyes.

When Umigame reached the beach, the old man stood straight with the help of a hard oak walking stick. And for unknown reasons, the old man had a purple turtle hull strapped to his back.

"I hope he's not the reward," Bulma mumbled.

"Hello, children," greeted the old man with a bow. He sounded energetic for his age. "I am Muten Roshi, the turtle hermit. I heard you saved my very best friend."

"You flatter me," said Umigame.

"Nonsense, nonsense," smiled the old man. Grant it, he had all his teeth.

Bulma and Goku stood up. "You're best friend is a turtle?" she raised an eyebrow. Roshi seemed to noticed her for the first time—like really notice her. The creepiest smile showed on the old man's face and he leaned closer toward her.

"Hello to you, little lady. You're looking rather good, I must say. But why aren't you wearing your bathing suit? Much more practical. Truly the best choice for everyone. Otherwise you'll never get a tan on that flawless complexion."

"Or cancer," said Bulma. Then she pointed at her own face. "And I'm up here."

Roshi cleared his throat and with difficulty tore his eyes away from her breasts.

"Goku saved me, Master Roshi," said Umigame.

"Right." Roshi focused on Goku now. "Strapping young man, eh? I owe you my friend's hull. Not literally, I mean. Anyway, I shall grant you a wonderful reward. Of course," his eyes returned to Bulma, "such beautiful girl would be enough for me, but you're young and probably needs more uh—" he shook his head. "Oh, well... Come to me, Immortal Phoenix!" he shouted.

Nothing happened.

"Did you mean, Invisible Phoenix?" said Bulma, unimpressed. 

Umigame looked uncomfortable. "Um, master...? I believe the Immortal Phoenix has died... a while ago, I would say. Remember that?"

Roshi scratched his head. "Oh, that's right. Tainted birdseed, wasn't it? We lost such rich bird... A shame, really..."

"The Immortal Phoenix died?" repeated Bulma.

They ignored her.

"Oh, I know," said Roshi at last. "Come to me, Kinto'un!" Within seconds a puffy yellowish cloud appeared floating before their eyes. It was bigger than the turtle. There was a strangeness about it—it looked more solid than an actual cloud. "This is Kinto'un, boy," Roshi told Goku. "And it is yours. It's the rarest of things. The last one in this world, if I'm not mistaken. Thinking about it... I don't suppose it's wise to be giving it away..."

Goku circled the cloud. "How should I eat it?"

"YOU DON'T EAT THE MAGICAL CLOUD!" the old man wailed. "Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, you ride it."

"Oh, obviously," Bulma sneered.

"It'll take you wherever you wish to go," continued Roshi.

"Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there," said Bulma. "Who are you again? Why do you have so many magical items? Isn't the talking turtle enough?"

Roshi adjusted his sunglasses. "Deal with it," he muttered.

She grimaced. "Well, if it's so freaking precious, why are you giving it away?"

"There's a catch."

"Isn't there always?"

The old man smiled. "Indeed. Once it was written, 'can only ride the flying nimbus the one who is pure of soul and heart.'"

"I'm fairly sure it's 'heart and soul,'" noted Bulma.

"It's my bloody prophecy, is it not?" hissed Roshi. "Now, watch and learn." With a head start, he jumped expecting to land on top of Kinto'un, but his body went right through it. He landed on his butt on the sand with a groan.

Bulma snorted. "I watched. And I learned that I shouldn't have watched it."

Umigame approached Roshi. "Are you alright, master?"

Roshi got up slowly, patting his backside. "It's broken, that's all."

Goku glanced at the cloud. It was his now, wasn't he? A gift. But what good was it if he couldn't ride it? What would he do with it? Well, he had to try it at the very least. He lunged forward and the flying nimbus caught him firmly. Goku raised his hands in victory. "I did it! I'm on it!"

Bulma crossed her arms. "See? It works just fine for him."

Goku flied the nimbus around, soaring, laughing as they cut the wind together. He felt so light, so alive. The cloud obeyed his will as if it could read his mind. It was as if he and Kinto'un were one.

"It seems made for you, lad," pointed Roshi.

Bulma put her hands on her waist. "Aren't you gonna give me something?"

Roshi shrugged. "Sorry. Only one magic cloud to spare. Besides, Umigame says only the boy helped him."

"Whatever," she grunted, eyeing the old master suspiciously. "I don't need a moralist cloud. I don't want anything you have to off—" her eyes widened when she saw it. The orange globe hanging from his necklace. How had she been so blind? "On the other hand," she lowered her voice trying to sound enthralling and charming, "that's a really lovely necklace, master Roshi. May I have that?"

Roshi glanced down. "This old thing?" he took it off his neck and moved the Dragon Ball around her face. "I found on the seabed years ago. Doesn't do anything, if that's what you're expecting. Trust me, I've tried everything already."

Bulma reached for it. "Lemme have it!"

Roshi pulled it away from her. "If you want it this much, guess you wouldn't mind giving me a little something-something in exchange."

"Name it."

He grin maniacally. "What I want—what I need—you see, I'd like to have—your panties!" The word had barely left his lips when Bulma drew her gun from her pocket belt and shoved it at his face.

"That's why the cloud doesn't like him," mumbled Umigame. The turtle would be facepalming if it could.

Goku flied the nimbus down and watched the scene before him. Bulma pressing a weapon he didn't even knew she had on master Roshi's nose and master Roshi clutching a Dragon Ball protectively.

"He has the Sanshinchu," said Bulma unnecessarily. "And he's gonna give it me."

Goku stepped down beside her. "By force? Put that thing down, Bulma."

Nobody moved for a few seconds. Bulma's hand twitched and she brought the gun down. "I hate you sometimes, you know that?"

Goku looked at the old man. "What do you want for the Dragon Ball, master Roshi?"

Roshi didn't even blush. "Your friend's panties."

Puzzled, Goku turned to Bulma. "Can't you just give it to him?"

"I could,” she answered slowly, “but I would rather kill him."

"No one's killing anybody," said Goku. "Master Roshi, isn't there anything else you would like?" Roshi shook his head. Goku thought he was enjoying himself greatly. "Bulma...?" whispered Goku.

She stared at him outraged. "I should've know you were no help at all!" she exclaimed. With fast movements, she took off the panties and threw it at Roshi who handed her the Dragon Ball.

"We were lucky, right?" said Goku, thinking of the ball.

Bulma's face was pink. She kept pulling her nightgown down as if afraid it wasn't covering her properly. "Lucky, yeah. Now I have to ride a motorcycle. Do you have any idea how unpleasant that's going to be?"  
***

The journey back was short. The old man kept bringing the panties to his face to smell it. "Some days, my good friend," he said to Umigame, "it's good to be alive."

When he saw his home however, he immediately forgot everything about those panties and its previous owner. He lived in a small diameter, isolated island right in the middle of the blue ocean. His house stood in the middle, a pink shack with a white porch and a red roof. There was a big sign that said—KAME HOUSE. But Roshi's eyes passed all that and focused on the three strangers on his beach.

There was a tall blue-eyed brunette accompany by a blue dwarf and a ginger. They had their backs turned and didn't see Roshi approach. They were having some sort of discussion.

"I found nothing," the brunette said.

"Maybe he knew we were coming and fled," ginger-man put in.

The blue dwarf spotted Roshi and said, "He must've forgotten something, then."

"Hello, fellows," greeted Roshi with a friendly wave.

"We order you to hand over your Dragon Ball," the girl said.

Roshi flattened his shirt. "Dragon Ball, you say?"

"Don't play fool, old man." She drew a gun and pointed at his face. Second time today, he thought. Yet I'm still here.

"You see, I just gave it to that hot piece of action I met at the beach. Not that you're not hot yourself, young lady, but too many layers, see—"

"Don't lie!" she shouted.

"I'm not," he raised his hands in surrender. "I've had it for years. But I made a deal with the girl... It was quite worthy, see."

"Where is it now?" the blue dwarf demanded.

"I won’t pretend to know."

"Should we kill him, Emperor Pilaf?" asked ginger-man.

The dwarf shook his head. "He might be lying. In which case, we'll be back." Their aircraft was floating a few meters away. They left without another word.

Roshi turned to Umigame. "I'm beginning to suspect I underestimated that little sphere's value."


	5. Chapter Four—The Great & Terrible Oolong

The faded sign on the road said—WELCOME TO ARU VILLAGE. Bulma and Goku exchanged a look.

Bulma was wearing jeans, combat boots and a regular white T-shirt with the Capsule Corporation logo printed on it. Goku wore exactly the same thing. She had bought their clothes two days ago in the last town they had passed through.

Aru Village was a ghost town. It had streets, asphalt, buildings, cars. But there was nobody there. They called and called and no one showed up to meet them.

"It's here," said Bulma checking her Dragon Radar. "The Dragon Ball is here. But what the hell happened to the people?"

"They're here," said Goku with confidence. He wasn't sure how he knew it, but he knew he was right.

"What do you mean?" she eyed him suspiciously.

"I can feel them," he said.

"Goku, there's nobody here."

"I can sense all sorts of people." Goku marched straight to the nearest house and knocked on the door savagely. "Open up! I know you're in there." He turned the knob, but the door didn't budge. "Why isn't it opening?"

Bulma shrugged. "Must be locked."

Goku kicked the door off its hinges. "Now it isn't."

"Very civilized," said Bulma. "Just accept it. There isn't a single person in this whole goddamn—"

From inside the house came a man and struck Goku in the head with a bat. He wore blue rompers over a red flannel shirt. His hair was dark and tangled, and his eyes were bloodshot and crazed like he hadn't slept in days.

Goku fell to his knees, clutching his head. "What was that for?" he cried.

The man stared at the broken bat in his hands. "I—I—It didn't work..." he stammered. "He—Oh, please, forgive me, Lord Oolong. Have mercy! I don't know what I was thinking! Please... do not hurt us..."

Bulma helped Goku up. "Who's Oolong?" she asked.

"I think you're mistaking me for someone else," Goku whimpered.

People started to come out of their homes to see what was the commotion. An old lady rushed their way, shouting, "What have you done, Sherman?" She was extremely short and old, and wore a blue velvet dress along with a red apron. She carried a common brown walking stick.

"Old Lady Paozu!" exclaimed the man in the overwalls.

"It's not him, you slug," pointed out the old lady.

Sherman turned to Goku. "I am ever so sorry, my boy!"

"It's fine," said Goku. "I'm fine."

Bulma stepped in. "If you had hit me instead, you'd be dead," she informed the man.

"Oh—ha ha! Thankfully... Thankfully I didn't, eh? Heh heh..." While Sherman mumbled more apologies, a young girl appeared behind his legs. She looked pale and panic-stricken. Her dark hair was braided and she wore a white feather behind her ear. Her pink dress had some flowers printed on it. Her large black eyes darted from Goku to Bulma and back. "Oh, this is my daughter, Pochawompa," said the Sherman noticing the girl.

Bulma frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Pochawompa," he repeated more clearly.

"Pocahontas?"

"No! Pochawompa."

Bulma didn't argue but neither did she looked convinced. "Okay. And who's this Oolong you're all so scared of?"

To Goku's surprise, it was the girl who spoke. "He's a terrible, terrible monster! He's a demon that cannot be stopped!"  
Old Lady Paozu nodded. "A shifter, you see? Nobody knows what he truly looks like. He comes here and kidnaps our girls!"

"Yesterday he looked at my Pochawompa," said the Sherman embracing his child. "He said—he said—he'd come and—and get her..."

"God only knows what he does to the girls he takes," said Old Lady Paozu. "We never saw none of them again after they were taken."

Bulma glanced at the little girl. "Can't you just leave? Sherman, can't you take your daughter somewhere safer?"

Sherman shook his head sadly. "He threatened us. Said he'll burn the entire village if we try to escape him."

"Then you should fight him." Everyone stared at Goku like he had just suggested they bathed in peanut butter.

"Are you mad?" exclaimed Sherman. "He's a shifter! He can take any form he likes! He can be as strong as dragons, as tall as the sky!"

"Okay, one problem at a time," said Bulma. She opened her backpack and brought out the Ryanshinchu and showed it to the villagers. "Has any of you seen anything like this?" People took turns saying they hadn't.

Old Lady Paozu cleared her throat. "I own one just like it," she confessed.

Bulma's blue eyes sparkled. "You do?"

The old lady brought a Dragon Ball from inside her apron. Why she carried it there was a mystery. "Found it about twenty years ago."

"The Tishinchu," said Bulma examining the sphere. "Seven stars ball. Ma'am, if you give me that, I will set your village free from the terrible Oolong."

Old Lady Paozu smirked. "A tempting offer, my girl, but do you really expect me to believe a chicken legged girl like you can defeat the mighty Oolong? I am old. I am no fool."

"My legs are fine, alright?" Bulma squeaked. "Besides, Goku'll be the one doing the fighting. I'll sit and watch with you, like a proper lady."

"What?" said Goku.  
"But what about the other girls?" asked little Pochawompa. "How will you be able to find them?"

Bulma waved her hand dismissively. "Worry not, Pocahontas."

—"Pochawompa"—

"I always have a plan. Now, can I borrow one of your dresses?"  
***

Bulma's plan was fairly simple, but Goku refused to play along and put on one of Pochawompa's dresses. So Bulma had to wear it instead. The dress was so small it barely covered her curves, but Bulma thought that would give her more credibility. Old Lady Paozu had helped by finding her a black wig that itched like you wouldn't believe.

"All right," said Bulma. "On your way, people. You all know the plan."

The villagers ran back to their houses. Bulma suspected they were keeping watch through their windows. She sighed. If the great and terrible Oolong noticed that, he would know something wasn't right. Nevertheless, she took her place right in the middle of the wide street and waited. Like they had warned her it would happen, Bulma felt the ground rumble and heard the giant footsteps approaching. Then, right before her eyes, a giant red demoniac monster stood.

"Where's my darling fiancée?" he bellowed.

Bulma stepped forward. "Right here."

The monster inspected her. If robots could frown, Bulma thought this one would be doing just that. "You're—" he hesitated. "You're hotter than I remember."

Bulma smiled, very pleased. "Glad you noticed. Now please, great Oolong, take me to your lair and let's get down to business!"

The giant stared at her and Bulma wondered what she'd done wrong. "What's the fun in kidnapping someone who wants to be kidnapped?" he asked. "Why aren't you afraid?"

Bulma cursed under her breath. "Oh, but I am! Terrible—horrific—Oolong! I'm shaking in my boots! I'm just as scared as... as... as the other people are... when they see you. That's how scared I am."

He scratched his robotic demonic head. "Really? Then… Then I suppose I'd better change into something less frightening..."

Before her eyes, he went—POOF—and when the smoke dissipated, Bulma was looking at a very handsome young man. He wore a heavy blue coat and dark pants. His hair was black, his eyes were blue, and he had a beautiful little mustache that made his face seem very manly. "Super cool!" she told him.

"What is your size?" he asked in a charming accent she couldn't quite place.

"You're gonna buy me clothes?" she asked. "Because, I gotta say, this get up is sort of preventing my blood from—"

"Your breast size."

Bulma thought she knew exactly what he was doing with the other girls he'd taken. "Pervert," she muttered softly as he circled her like a vulture.

"What?"

"Thirty-four, I said."

He beamed at her. "That's fantastic! Your age?"

"Sixteen."

"A little old," he complained.

"Are you kidding me?" she snapped. "I'm in my glory days! The flower of—"

"You're not my fiancée," he realized crossing his arms, showing off his muscles. "You are very pretty and I can see you can't wait to be married to me, but… but I don't want to hurt the other girl's feelings. I did choose her first. I gave her my word."

"I already talked to her," said Bulma, changing tactics. "She's perfectly fine with the arrenge—" she gasped. "I mean... she cried! Rivers, truly. But she'll get over it. I'm sure she will."

He hesitated. Bulma threw her shoulders back and reared her breasts forward. The tight dress threatened to crush her, but it seemed to be enough to convince Oolong. "Maybe I'll take you both," he said at last.

"No!" exclaimed Bulma. "I'm a very jealous bitch! You don't want to see me when I—"

Oolong took several steps back as if she had hit him. He was glancing at his wristwatch. "I'll be back," he said. "Wait right here."  
Goku, who was hiding a few meters away, watched the man bolt and pursued. Undetected, he followed the man through a maze of streets until he lost him. Distressed, Goku went left and found himself face to face with a fat, middle-aged man. He was about five inches shorter than Goku, with pale pink skin and a protuberant belly. He wore a dark green war-like uniform and was smoking a cigarette, at ease.

"Hey, you!" said Goku. "Have you see a man go through here?"

The man took a drag of the cigarette and blew smoke out his nose very slowly. "Yeah," he said. "I think he went that way." Goku thanked him and rushed the way he'd pointed. But no matter how long he looked, Goku found nothing.

"You let him escape?" barked Bulma. "How useless are you, Goku?"

Goku ignored her; he was too busy thinking. "I don't understand... I had him... He just disappeared. I wondered if he didn't turn into an ant? Maybe I stepped on him."

"Maybe you didn't," said Bulma pointing. Goku turned around and saw the giant red demonic robot returning.

"Sorry," he boomed. "I was just over there destroying another village!"

Goku scowled. "I think you're a big wimp!"

"How dare you?" howled Oolong. "I'm the strongest in this world! How strong are you, boy?"

"Strong enough to take you down."

Goku prepared himself to fight and the great and terrible Oolong turned into a bat ready to fly away.

"Get him, Goku!" shouted Bulma.

Goku called for Kinto'un. He jumped on the flying nimbus and soared through the sky in pursue of the little bat. The chase didn't last very long. Suddenly, the bat was the fat man Goku had seen before free falling and screaming like a girl. Goku caught him mid-air and Kinto'un took them back down.

"It was you," said Goku.

The man struggled in Goku's arms. "Who are you? Why aren't you scared?"

"That's Oolong?" Bulma raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

Carefully, the people from Aru Village started to come out of their houses to look upon the face of the mighty Oolong.

"All this time," hissed Sherman, "scared to resist him! And what for?"

"Shame on you, you pig," said Old Lady Paozu shaking her walking stick threateningly.

"So ridiculous," another villager muttered.

"I can't even bring myself to be mad at him," added another.

Oolong cursed. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here!"

Goku set the man on the ground, but kept a firm hand on his neck. "Apologize to them!" he commanded.

The man turned a deep shade of purple. "I'm so—so sorry."

"Explain yourself," demanded Old Lady Paozu.

Oolong sighed. "I was—I've been to shapeshifter's school, but... I've dropped out. So the forms I take only last five minutes or so. After that, I need another minute to reload my energies."

"Where are our girls?" someone shouted. "What have you done to them?"

"What I've done to them?" said Oolong outraged. "More like what've they done to me! Those girls are doing very well, thank you very much! Spending all my money! Never cleaning after themselves—"

"Take us to them," said Bulma and Oolong was left with no choice.  
***

Lair was not the word Bulma would've used to describe Oolong's home. He lived in a typical Japanese mansion with a great oasis as backyard. Dozens of girls danced half naked around the garden, swam in the clear blue ponds, and drank alcoholic beverages without any adult supervision. And Bulma had expected a sad, terrifying cave, filled with corpses and bones.

"I extorted a lot of money," explained Oolong reading her expression.

One of the girls spotted them and stopped dancing. "If you're expecting to rescue me, forget it! I'm fine! I'm happy! Go away!"

"Just once," Oolong said, his ears down, "Just once, I wanted a shy nice girl who would show me the little bit of respect I show them!"

Old Lady Paozu handed Bulma the Tishinchu. "Here. You did as you said you would. Now it is upon us to come with this piggy's punishment."

Bulma put the Dragon Ball in her backpack. "I'm taking Oolong with me, if you guys don't mind," she said.

Goku glanced at her. "You are?"

"Whatcha gonna do with me?" asked Oolong.

"I'll only hurt you if you don't come willingly," she smiled.

"But where are we going?"

She shrugged. "Places. Now, it'll be easier if we could ride on Kinto'un with you, Goku. It's faster."

"But you have to be pure of heart to ride it," he reminded her.

"Cut me out then," said Oolong.

Bulma eyed him with judgment. "I doubt anyone has a purer heart than mine." She made Goku called Kinto'un and jumped on the cloud. Her butt hit the ground and she moaned. Goku pursed his lips, trying not to laugh. "I don't understand," cried Bulma. "Why? Is it a sin to be smart and beautiful?"

Goku didn't think those were Kinto'un's reasons to reject Bulma, but he said nothing. He watched as she brought out her motorcycle and climbed on it, pouting. "You go with her," he told Oolong who gladly climbed after Bulma, wrapped his short arms around her and grabbed her breasts. Before Goku could blink, Bulma had her gun pointed at him.

"One more second and I'll remove them for you."

Oolong quickly drew back his hands.

Goku shook his head. Wherever they went, one thing he was sure of—this was not going to be boring.  
***

Two days later, they were crossing the North River on a hoi-poi motorboat. Goku was leaning back, his eyes closed. He found the movement of the motorboat to be very relaxing. Oolong was by his side while Bulma managed the outboard motor by the rear. Her mood had improved since they had found the Tishinchu, which made her look even prettier.

"I can't believe there's only two balls left," she remarked. "We'll have them faster than I've dreamed!"

"What is it that you're looking for again?" asked Oolong. He had been asking them that since they had left Aru Village, but neither Goku nor Bulma would answer him. Sometimes he would bring the subject up completely out of the blue in hope to catch them unprepared, but so far he hadn't had any luck.

"I still don't know why we're taking him with us," said Goku, eyeing the pig suspiciously. He didn't trust Oolong, nor had Oolong tried to earn his trust.

"I've been asking myself the same thing," said the man.

"I don't expect any of you to understand how a genius' mind works," she answered. "His metamorphosis thingy might come in handy."

"Precious, lemme tell you something," said Oolong, leaning toward Bulma. "Quests like this are boring and dangerous. Certainly not my style."

"Certainly," she agreed.

Goku sat up. "How can it be boring and dangerous? That doesn't make any sense."

"You can just add that to the long list of things you don't understand," said Oolong.

"Don't talk to him like that!" snapped Bulma. "Only I'm allowed to do that. Besides, I think you might enjoy traveling with us, Oolong. After all, it's so damn hot today. Who knows? I might even go for a swim later. Naked."

Oolong blinked. "Not all quests have to be boring."

Goku grinned.

"I never thought so," said Bulma.

"Er... Where are we going exactly?" asked Oolong.

"Mount Fry-Pan," she said promptly.

Oolong looked like he was trying to swallow a sock. "MOUNT FRY-PAN?"

Bulma glanced at him. "Don't yell at me."

"You know it?" asked Goku.

"Do I know it?" he shouted exasperated. "Who the hell doesn't? It's the freakin’ Fire Mountain! The Ox-King lives there, for crying out loud!"

"The Ox-King?"

"Doesn't ring any bells," said Bulma. "And doesn't sound very scary. The King of Oxen. Whoa. Good for him. He can graze all day for all I care."

"You don't understand—"

"Besides," she cut him off, "we have Goku."

Oolong stared at her, disbelief all over his pig-like frame. "So you don't mind him dying?"

"How dare you imply I don't care for Goku?"

"If you care so much, turn around! If we get to the Fire Mountain, we're as good as dead!"

"We're going, Oolong," said Bulma. "It's happening. Now settle down," she added because Oolong had gotten to his feet and was moving around looking for an escape route.

"You can't make me go!" he said. Goku watched as he turned into a little fish and attempted to jump into the North River. Goku caught him before he could reach the water.

"You do that again, you'll be dinner," warned Bulma. Oolong returned to his true self and sat down crossing his arms and looking extremely unhappy. Bulma reached for something in her pocket bell. She handed Oolong a green piece of candy.

"What's this crap?"

"This crap," she said serious, "is how grateful I am that you're going with us. Eat it. And behave. You might earn yourself a pair of knickers."

"Can I have that, too?" asked Goku.

Bulma turned to him. "Knickers?"

"Candy! I don't want your dirty panties."

"They're not—" the boat suddenly came to a halt. Bulma pulled the cord, but the motor was dead. "Oh, no," she said. "I think we're out of gas. Turn into a roar, Oolong."

Oolong did as she asked and Goku paddled them to shore. Oolong shifted back and they stepped out of the boat. He turned to Bulma who was searching for something in her pocket belt. "Can I have a nice pair of panties, now?"

Bulma snickered. "You think getting your head wet it's worth 'em? Please."

"You promised!"

"Shit!" she hissed. "My capsules! They're not here! Where'd I...? Oh, no! Oh, no! This is so bad! I cannot live without—Do you think I dropped on the lake? Oolong! Fish—lake—capsules—panties!"

"You crazy? Too deep," he said. "I'd never find them!"

"Goku!" she cried. "No capsules means no house, no motorcycle, no gas! Not even a damn bicycle! I'm DOOMED!"

Oolong stepped beside Goku. "Should I slap her? I'm not kidding, I would enjoy that."

Goku stared at Bulma. She looked genuinely desperate and her bad mood was returning full force. "You could just walk, you know," he pointed out. She had long strong legs. He was sure she could go far.

"Easy for you to say!" she vociferated. "Mister I-Have-A-Flying-Nimbus!"

Goku thought of a series of things to make Bulma feel better, but all he could come up with was: "I'll walk with you. Right by your side, Bulma. I promise."

She studied him with sad eyes and sighed. In a slow pace, the three of them resumed their journey West.


	6. Chapter Five—The Bandit of the Desert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy with how this chapter worked out. It's the one I worked on the hardest and I think you guys will be able to tell why. But I wanna say that I had many reasons for what I did here. This is Yamcha's introduction into the story—Yamcha who is one of my favorite characters, I'm not ashamed to say. I guess it's hard to imagine that when you're so used to where Dragon Ball is right now, with Bulma and Vegeta being the it-couple and Yamcha being the cheating boyfriend/loser. But when he first appeared in Dragon Ball, he was the "hot guy", you know? The love interest to the main female character.
> 
> I don't wanna preach, but I might end up doing that. See, I hate the fact that most fanfics out there trash Yamcha to a point where there's nothing left but to just hate him. Guys, we're not supposed to hate him. Whatever happened between him and Bulma—whatever made them grow apart—did not make her hate him. They were friends even after all of that. (Not that I want them to be together or anything; I just don't think we should make him a villain.)
> 
> So why should we? (I'm not gonna delve in the issue of cheating that the writes threw his way because I think everyone should make what they want out of there according to what they know from real life. But I like to compare it to what Blaine Anderson did to Kurt Hummel on Glee, and everyone forgave Blaine, didn't they?)
> 
> Moving on.
> 
> So I also love that this is the first time Bulma and Yamcha see each other, and I know that they know there's something there, some sort of connection. At least while they're young they're supposed to be together. They are both lonely teenagers in search for something they don't even realize they need. They were meant to find each other so that they could get to that other level of themselves.
> 
> Another thing I wanna point out is—Lady Puar. Yes, I turned the magic, talking cat into a foul-mouthed grandmother. Why? Well, why the hell not? It turned out to be really fun writing Yamcha being pushed around by a tiny lady thrice his age. And the dynamics with Oolong also turned out really great.
> 
> So I hope you'll enjoy this.
> 
> Write me back.

Goku guessed Bulma had forgotten to mention they had to cross the desert to get to the Fire Mountain. Still, he marched ahead nonstop. His hair was wet and glued to his forehead. He knew he was dehydrated but he was afraid if he showed weakness it would crush Bulma's spirits.

She was already falling behind him and he could see the struggle she made to move her legs. She was just as sweaty as he was, her white T-shirt now transparent. Her breathing was superficial and she kept stumbling as if walking with her eyes closed.

"Come on, Bulma!" he urged. "Move that butt of yours!"

"I—am—a—city—girl!" she murmured with difficulty. "Not some... beast of the jungle!" Suddenly she tripped and fell on her knees. Goku went to her side. "I can't," she said. "I refuse to take one more step."

"You're weak," he teased. He knew her greatest motivator was anger.

She pushed him down on the sand. "You're—" she stared at him for a long time, thinking. "See? Something is definitely wrong with me! I can't even think of something offensive to say." And Goku had to agree. If she was failing at being rude and mean, there was definitely something wrong.

"Don't they have a lodge here or something?" asked Oolong sitting beside them. The fat man looked just as bad as Bulma. His pink skin glowed with sweat and he smelled strongly like bacon.

"Sure," said Bulma. "The lovely Inn of NOWHERE!" She shouted so loud Goku was sure she had moved one of the sand dunes.

There were a few ruins scattered around the desert. Goku spotted a big pile of rocks that made a nice shade more to their left. "Why don't you lie there?" he told her. "Just for a while. Try to rest."

"I can't sleep without a bed," she said, but she did as he said and within seconds she was fast asleep.

"Didn't she say something about a bed?" mocked Oolong. "Anyway, I suppose I'd better go lie there with her. Just for a little while—"

"Nice try," said Goku. "You're staying right here where I can see you."

"What are you, her big brother or something?"

Goku was amused at the thought. He never thought he would be called anyone's brother. But something had brought them together, he and Bulma, just as something had helped his grandpa find him. If the exchange for her company and her friendship was his protection, he thought of no one more deserving of it.  
***

Okay, so the Diablo Desert wouldn't be Yamcha's first choice of a home. But a series of unrelated struggles and other unfortunate events had driven him there. Well, it didn’t matter. He was more comfortable like this anyway. Living with other people, having to fit in with society’s preconceptions, was too much of a daily fight as far as he was concerned. Or at least that’s what Lady Puar had said and the old lady had a way of sounding right every time. 

Solitude wasn't so bad anyway. The caves protected him from the heat. And the number of unaware fools crossing the desert was as high as the amount of corrupt politicians currently ruling West City.

Yamcha wasn't all by himself either. Since he had ran away from home, Yamcha had faced many dangers and gone through the weirdest parts of Earth. No wonder he had found a friend in the foul-mouthed old lady from Yahhoy. Lady Puar was tiny and so old Yamcha had never gather enough courage to ask her age. Her hair was white as snow and her entire skin was marked with deep wrinkles and other age marks. But the golden lady often proved to possess more stamina than Yamcha and she always had funny remarks to make—even when—especially when—he wished she would shut the hell up.

Right now she was perked at the window, dressed in a pink sweater she had knit herself, polishing a frying pan; her weapon of choice. That reminded Yamcha of the day they had met. The flood, the burnt barbecue, the gray donkey, the naked people running around… sometimes everything felt like a bad dream. 

Lady Puar let out a gasp. Yamcha dropped his fork and got up. The food was dry anyway. He stopped beside Puar and looked out the window.

"There's two of them," said the woman in that wicked tone she saved for when addressing men. She made it clear since the very beginning that she despised men. For some unspoken reason though, she had decided to make an exception for Yamcha. In some rare occasions, she even seemed to like him. 

Yamcha saw nothing down there. Lady Puar rolled her eyes and pointed a bony finger. Was it possible her vision worked better than his? 

"Well, it's about time,” he said, pretending he could see whatever she was pointing to. “I was beginning to wonder if word had finally got out of the business we run around here. So they’re…?" He let the words die out and Lady Puar gave him one of her dirtiest looks. 

"A scrawny brat and a fat man,” she said and then mumbled something that sounded like blind-shit-head.

Yamcha felt his lips twitch. It was way to easy. 

"They might've capsules," added the oldie.

Yamcha nodded. It was about time he had some fun. Things were getting too boring, the food was getting too stale. And Lady Puar had too much free time to think of new bad words to call him. 

He unsheathed his katana and stared at his own reflection. "Prepare our jet, Lady Puar," he commanded.

“You prepare our jet, you dope,” she retorted.  
***

Goku stood up, uneasy. He couldn't sleep or even relax. He was so hungry he could actually feel his body's strength fading away. Thanks to his hunting skills, he had never learned the side effects of staying this long without food but he could guess it wasn’t going to be fun. His stomach growled again. Goku glanced at Oolong. The fat man smelled good for some reason. Could he be hiding some food in his pockets? He smelled strangely like bacon… Maybe he tasted like bacon, too…

Goku shook his head and tried to focus. He could not possibly be considering eating Oolong. The man might not exactly be a friend, but they were in this together, and besides that was cannibalism. Oolong was probably just as hungry as Goku. And Bulma—poor Bulma—was still unconscious. Goku was starting to worry. He wasn't sure she was still sleeping or dying. If there was a difference, he wasn't skilled enough to recognize it.

"I'm going to look for something to eat," he decided.

"Where?" mumbled Oolong. "There's nothing here. There's nothing for miles and miles in any direction."

"Then maybe we should keep moving. Should I wake Bulma?"

Oolong grimaced. "For Kami, no! Of course not. Let her sleep. Can you imagine being this hungry, this thirsty, and have her bitchin’ about it with that big mouth of hers? No. Whatever she has to say, I sure don't want to hear it."

Goku sighed and was about to sit beside the pig once more when a flying yellow jet appeared in the horizon moving fast toward them. Goku's spirits brightened. Maybe this was help. Maybe his prayers had been answered and this someone was bringing piles of food. His stomach growled at the thought.

How wrong he was. 

The guy in the jet was maybe two years older than Goku, tall and broad, with visible muscles and scars Goku didn't want to know about. His jet black hair was a tangled web that went down to his waist. His eyes shone with malice and he had a mischievous smile that told Goku right away he could not be trusted. He carried a katana sword on his back that Goku assessed as his biggest threat. 

The guy’s companion was unexpected. An old woman, small and frail looking, with a sweet, grandmother smile. She moved slowly, perhaps due to her age, her face was framed by white curls of hair and she carried a shiny frying pan on her hand hopefully to cook everyone breakfast ASAP. 

"Good day, gentlemen," the guy greeted them.

Goku stood up, hesitant. "Who are you?"

Oolong also rose a few feet behind Goku. He leaned closer to whisper: "I don't think we want to know."

"I am the glorious Yamcha," the guy introduced himself. The old lady chuckled. Yamcha glared at her. “We’ve talked about this,” he mumbled. 

“Yet you keep saying it,” she shrugged. “What can I do? It gets funnier every time.” 

Yamcha shook his head not so gloriously. "And this is Lady Puar."

"Puar?" Oolong shrieked. "As in Lady Frying Pan?” 

The old woman focused on him, eyes like slits. "Cry-baby Oolong, innit?” 

Yamcha looked from one to the other. "You know him?"

Lady Puar nodded. "An old perv from shapeshifters school. Used to cry a lot everytime my gang got a hold of him. Was expelled for stealing some of the girls' underwear."

"Haven't changed at all, have you?" Goku asked Oolong, thinking maybe this was the reason behind Oolong’s recent behavior. 

"Well," said Yamcha, "I particularly hate punks, but we're not here to judge, Lady Puar. We're here to steal their belongings."

"Go ahead, Goku," boasted Oolong. "Break his neck! Then we can eat the old one!"

So Oolong was just as hungry as Goku if he was considering eating someone he had gone to school with. Goku felt better at that. But not much. His legs were a little shaky and there were black spots dancing before his eyes. "Why do I have to fight him?" he asked. Maybe they could call Bulma. She knew how to fight, didn't she? Goku deserved some rest as well.

"Haven't you been listening?" snapped Oolong. "He's going to rob and kill us!"

“Nobody said anything about killing anybody,” said Lady Puar. “Always dramatic, eh? How about you stop being so extra?” 

When Yamcha drew his katana and charged toward them, Goku was seeing two of him. He somehow managed to dodge Yamcha’s first two swings, then intercepted the sword with his baton. Yamcha's eyes widened. "The Nyoibo!" he exclaimed stepping back. He gaped at Goku with new interest. "Where did you get that?"

"My grandpa gave it to me." It was true. The Nyoibo was Goku's tenth birthday gift. Grandpa Gohan had taught him how to use it and told him the legend of the Power Pole. According to him, the length-changing staff's main purpose was to allow its wielder to reach the home of the all powerful Kami. Son Gohan had been given it by his own master of the Martial Arts.

Yamcha shook his head. "There is only one of those and—it belonged to the great—Who's this grandfather of yours?"

"None of your business," growled Goku. His arms were getting heavier. He wanted to end this fight once and for all. But the other wouldn't let go so easily.

"It was Son Gohan, wasn't it?" he guessed. "The best martial artist of all times. With the exception, of course, of his own master."

Goku couldn't bring himself to answer. Time seemed to have slowed down. He lunged forward ready to strike, but Yamcha was ready for him. He shouted, "Rougahuhuken!", and something really weird happened. Goku thought he was losing his mind. One minute he was seeing Yamcha, very clearly, then his vision darkened and he thought he saw a wolf coming his way. Goku stumbled trying to avoid the wolf's fangs and then Yamcha was once more before him and his fist met Goku's face. Goku's vision blurred as his head exploded in pain, and before he could blink Yamcha kicked him in the chest and Goku was sent flying toward one of the ruins.

Yamcha smiled at his work. It'd been years since he'd last found cause to use the Wolf Slice Fist, no opponent had been of real consequence. But he suspected the boy to be good, if his grandfather was really the one and only Son Gohan. Yamcha knew better than to take chances.

The fat man gasped and tried to run, but Lady Puar hit him in the had with her frying pan. He landed belly-first on the sand. Lady Puar then sat on top of him, crossing her legs as if about to meditate. 

"I thought we were friends..." pleaded the man, voice muffled. 

Lady Puar smile. "Not at all."

"Give me your money and whatever capsules you possess," ordered Yamcha.

Oolong was about to obey when he saw something moving behind the desert bandit. Goku was back on his feet and, boy, did he look mad.

"Hitting me won't make me any less hungry!" he shouted.

Yamcha turned around surprise. The Wolf Slice Fist was supposed to have knocked him out for hours. The boy charged at Yamcha and hit him with the Nyoibo on the ribs. Yamcha moaned softly and jumped back, slamming his blade against the baton. The boy came at him again with a swipe to the head. Yamcha parried and returned with a thrust. Then, as suddenly as it had began, the fighting stopped.

Goku stepped back patting his stomach. "I can't," he said. "I can't fight anymore. I'm too hungry."

"You can't stop now!" Oolong started to say but shut his mouth as soon as Lady Puar pointed the frying pan at his face.

Yamcha grinned. It was truly his lucky day. He would defeat the boy and steal whatever the fatso had. And, as a bonus, he could even take the Power Pole home. He raised his sword just as an angry voice came out of nowhere raising the hairs on his neck.

"SHUT UP THE LOT OF YOU! I am trying to sleep! Do you know how hard it is to—to—" Bulma had come marching out of the shadows ready to punch Goku and Oolong in the neck when she found herself face to face with someone unexpected. A dark, handsome stranger standing there with his sword in hand gaping at her in awe. Bulma found herself unable to move or speak. Her heart seemed to have stopped because she couldn’t feel it beat anymore.

Yamcha opened and closed his mouth several times unable to say what was going on inside his head. His hands shook and he forgot what the hell he was doing there in the first place. Was there something he needed? He couldn't remember. He certainly wasn't in need of anything else. Not anymore at least.

Then he got a grip of himself and stumbled back. He gestured to Puar, their secret sign of retreat, and she immediately followed him back to the jet. Within seconds, they were gone.

"What was that?" asked Oolong, trying to sit up.

"Who was that?" demanded Bulma.

Goku's stomach growled louder than their inquiries.  
***

Lady Puar was once again perched at the window, only this time she watched Yamcha pacing around the room, her eyes filled with judgement and maybe even a little bit of pity. "Aren’t you going to explain to me what happened out there, ass-face?"

Yamcha didn't answer right away. His thoughts were going too fast through his head and he couldn't quite focus on any of them. "I'm not… I don't know what happened. Who was that?"

“Pah!” was the sound Lady Puar made. "Just some girl."

"That was not just a girl." He whispered, mesmerized. He didn't know how to make Puar understand. But he was sure that the words 'just' and 'girl' did not do her justice. Those deep eyes that almost swallowed him whole still burnt in his memory. The beautiful color of her hair as it was caught in the sunlight when she came to a halt. Her flawless complexion. The long, endless legs.

If that was what girls looked like now Yamcha had really isolated himself for way too long. That was not the way he remember them.

"What are you thinking, you dolt? What are you going to do?"

Yamcha glanced at his only friend, a decision forming in his mind. "Never see her again," he vowed. The woman stared at him. "You think I'm a pussy," Yamcha guessed.

Lady Puar lowered her eyes and, for the first time in a long time, looked brittle, haunted by memories. "I think you're human,” she said. 

Yamcha sighed. Maybe he was making a big deal out of this. Maybe he was seeing too much into it. The memory was fading now. She wasn't that pretty, was she? He couldn't even remember her height. Maybe he had just been caught off guard. Whatever the case, it wasn't likely to happen again.

"You know what? You're right, Puar."

Her eyes returned to his face. “I don’t know what you’re referring to but, yes, I usually am.” 

"You're totally right,” he said, ignoring her. “I have nothing to fear. We'll go back there tonight and steal everything they have. Everything, I say!"  
***

"Unbelievable!" Bulma shouted for the third time. Turned out Oolong had been holding out on them. He owned a single hoi-poi capsule—a two story RV.

Goku was sitting beside her at the dinner table. Unlike her, he wasn't angry with Oolong, just glad he finally had something to eat. Oolong had baked a turkey for them. First class cooking.

"I can't believe you neglected to tell us you had this," said Bulma. "You let us pass out from exhaustion and dehydration and hunger. What the hell is the matter with you?"

Oolong repeated the same excuse he had used before. "It's for emergencies only!"

Bulma scowled. "Right. Silly me. Here I was thinking that being stranded in the desert without food or water or shelter was considered a freakin' emergency!"

Oolong looked at Goku. "How can you stand her?"

Bulma got up quickly and Oolong winced as if afraid she would hurt him. "Where's the bathroom?" she asked.

"Oh," he chuckled nervously. "I'll show you."

Both of them barely fit inside the bathroom. "That's it, uh?" said Bulma.

"Why don't you try the luxuriant hotel down the road, if this is not good enough for you?"

Bulma shrugged. "I'm just saying, it's small."

"Well, it ain't no palace, but I don't see no royalty."

Bulma pushed him. "Just get the fuck out, you pig."

Oolong returned to the galley and sat beside Goku who was still shoving unspeakable amounts of food into his mouth. "So," began Oolong, "I gotta ask, kid. Why are you with her?" he gestured toward the now closed bathroom door.

"Bulma?" 

Oolong watched pieces of chewed turkey flying everywhere. "Yeah. How long are you two together?"

"A few days," said Goku. "We're on a quest. Why?"

Oolong leaned forward. "What is it that you two want so bad you're willing to go to the Fire Mountain to get?"

"One of the Dragon Balls," said Goku absentmindedly. Then he frowned. He wasn't supposed to tell Oolong that, was he? It was a secret. Oolong was not to know.

"What’s that?" the pig asked.

Goku knew he wasn't supposed to say anything but something seemed to be controlling him. He felt dizzy and, though he tried to stop it, it seemed like his mouth was working against his will. He told Oolong everything—everything he knew, everything Bulma had told him.

Yamcha and Lady Puar were outside the RV, checking the windows carefully not to be spotted. They could hear everything Goku was saying and their eyes widened more and more with every word.

"Let me get this straight..." said Oolong. "If you have all seven balls, this dragon god will grant you a wish?"

Goku nodded. The word was spinning around him, he could barely make out Oolong's shape.

"Any wish at all?"

"That's what Bulma said," he mumbled. It was getting harder to speak, his tongue seemed numb.

"She could be lying," said Oolong.

Bulma's many things but she's not a liar, Goku wanted to say, but his voice had left him.

"And you already have five of them," continued Oolong. "The sixth is supposed to be at the Fire Mountain. And you know that because of some sort of radar blabbermouth has created?"

“Uh-huh."

"Any wish at all,” whispered Yamcha to Lady Puar. “You know what that means?"

"That I can be young again?” The woman smiled adoringly at her reflection on the glass.

"You know what, kid?" said Oolong. "We should cut loudmouth out. I mean, we're guys. She's a girl. She'll only spoil everything. Without her, we could wish for something useful, you know, like... 300 naked girls."

Goku couldn't imagine why anyone would want 300 Bulmas, but he didn't have the strength to articulate that. His head fell on the table with a loud thud and he slipped into unconsciousness.  
***

Bulma came out of the bathroom wrapped on a white towel. "What happened to him?" she asked waving toward Goku. Oolong shrugged. "Well, where are my clothes? I saw you taking them."

It was true. Oolong had sneaked into the bathroom as she bathed, using his extra key, and stolen her clothes. "I put them in the wash," he said. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"No! That's what you wanted, you creep. Me, walking around in nothing but a towel! You better have them by morning, Oolong, I'm warning you."

He crossed his arms. "What am I? Your ass now?"

"No. My ass is awesome."

Oolong sighed. "Touché."

"I'm going to bed," she told him. "And since I'm naked, no one's allowed upstairs but me. You're sleeping here with Goku. If I hear so much as a step on those stairs, I'll make you pay with your insignificant life."

"Damn, the way you nag people... It's like being married!"

"You wish." She turned her back and marched upstairs.

"Maybe I should've drugged her instead of the kid..."  
***

Lady Puar shifted into a key that Yamcha used to open the RV's door. They walked inside and saw Goku sleeping on the table.

"Idiot," mumbled Yamcha.

"Where do you think the others are? Upstairs?"

Yamcha didn't like the malice in her voice. "She would never—I mean, not everyone’s easy like you, Lady Puar. Have more respect. Change into this kid and take both the others out of here."

Puar nodded and turned into a misshapen doppelganger of Goku. While she headed upstairs, Yamcha knocked the real Goku on the bench under the table and covered him with a blanket.

Oolong was right beside Bulma who was fast asleep. He was about to pull the sheet that covered her when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He cussed. The boy was supposed to be knocked out at least until tomorrow. Oolong covered Bulma's head with the sheet and shifted into her.

Fake Goku stared at Fake Bulma.

"Still awake?" she asked.

"Where's... the fatso?" he said.

"Went for a walk."

"Could you take me to him?"

"I don't... uh, okay."

They headed downstairs together. "So the fat man went for a walk?" Fake Goku said loudly to warn Yamcha they were coming down.

"I'm right beside you," said Fake Bulma. "No need to shout. And what do you want with Oolong anyway that can’t wait until he’s back?"

They were outside now, walking under the moonlight.

"Just need to talk to you both," said Fake Goku. "Something important happened."

"Can't you just say what it is?"

"If you insist." Fake Goku shifted back into Lady Puar. "Surprise, skank."

Fake Bulma shifted back into Oolong. "Lady Frying Pan?!"

"Cry-baby Oolong?! Don't you tell me that the real girl is still—Oh, boy!"  
***

Yamcha rushed upstairs looking for the spheres inside drawers and whatnots. He must've made a little more noise than he thought because Bulma stirred under the sheets and woke up. She sat up and their eyes met.

"What are you doing here?" both of them asked.

Yamcha's face turn a deep shade of purple. He saw her beauty again and thought unlikely to ever forget it. She bit her lip and her eyes twinkled. Yamcha thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "I was just leaving," he managed to say.

"Oh. Really?" he thought she sounded disappointed. Then he shook his head. Why in seven hells would she be disappointed?

"Yes," he said. "This is—wrong place, wrong time." 

He bolted downstairs but still he heard her say: "I'll see you again!" This time there was no mistake. He kept running, a wide smile on his face, completely forgetting what he had gone there to steal.


	7. Chapter Six—Out Of The Frying Pan...

Goku woke up feeling wonderful. He yawned and stretched and didn't even find weird that someone had covered his entire body with a smelly old blanket. "Good morning!" he enthused. 

Oolong was on the driver's seat, a shotgun in his hands and dark bags under his eyes. There was five or six mugs of coffee around him. "What's so good about it? Waking up is painful. Not sleeping at all... now that's just awful."

Goku rubbed his eyes. "I don't even remember falling asleep, but I slept like a baby. Why haven't you?"

"Because that bandit and his rude grandmother attacked again last night, that's why!"

"They did? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"It wasn't an attack." Bulma came downstairs wrapped around some sheets. Her blonde hair was tangled and she didn't look like she had gotten much sleep either, but the way she smiled told Goku she was in a good mood. "It was more of a friendly visit, if you ask me. Besides, it's not like they took anything, did they?"

"Which means they'll be back!"

"Get over it, Oolong," she said. "Now, where are my clothes?"

"You really think I got nothing better to do, don't you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded. "I can't spend the day wearing sheets!"

Goku tried to stop them from jumping at each other's throat. "He spent the night protecting us, Bulma."

"From what?" she mocked. "They meant us no harm."

Oolong spoke very slowly, like he was trying not to snap. "I have something you can wear. Upstairs in the closet."

"Why didn't you say so already?" Bulma went back upstairs.

"I used to think I'd take the prize for obnoxiousness. But, man, I bow to her," said Oolong.

Goku was about to reply that it was possible to get used to her bickering, when Bulma let out a howl of rage. "YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" A few minutes later, she came back down wearing a pair of blue pantyhose, a black leotard, high heeled red shoes, a red bow tie and black bunny ears on top of her hair. Goku pursued his lips and struggled to keep his face straight. "How many other girls did you force to put this on?"

"You're the first, really," said Oolong. "And I didn't force you to do anything."

"I can't wear this."

"Be my guest,” he said. “Take it off.” 

Bulma was fuming. "I'm sorry if I don't feel like the heroin of this quest in this outfit!"

"Didn't seem to stop you from putting it on, now did it?" Oolong eyed her with amusement. "You even put on the ears."

Bulma blushed. "Of course I did. Makes me look like I'm dressed like a slut for a certain occasion. Without it, I'd just be a slut."

"Did you put on the tail?" he teased.

Bulma's real ears reached a shade of purple Goku didn't know it was possible. Which proved she had indeed put on the fluffy bunny tail.

"You'll regret this," she told Oolong. "Now take us to Mount Fry-Pan! Make yourself useful and drive!"

"Me?"

"Who else, dickhead?"

"And the fact that I haven't slept—"

"—means absolutely nothing to me." She sat beside Goku with her arms crossed and it was decided.  
***

"They're on the move," said Lady Puar who was keeping watch at the window with binoculars. "What do we do?"

"Prepare the automatic rifle," ordered Yamcha. He'd had a very confusing night and no longer kept track of his priorities. He wanted the so called Dragon Balls. He also wanted the girl with the blonde hair. He couldn't just let her leave. Not like that. Not without—

“You prepare the goddamn rifle,” Lady Puar said. “Pff. Just what I needed. A numskull like you telling me what to do.”

Sighing, Yamcha prepared all the equipment by himself while Lady Puar criticized his work. 

They approached the moving RV in their yellow jet Yamcha had once stolen from other unlucky travelers. Yamcha carried the rifle, prepared for what came next, but ended up pulling the trigger way too soon and hit the RV above the right tire. The entire right side of the RV exploded. Bulma hit her head on one of the cabinets and passed out. Goku dragged her out before the whole thing collapsed. Oolong came out after them.

Yamcha's eyes widened when he saw Bulma and a great wave of guilt shattered his heart. "Is the girl okay?"

"What do you want?" asked Goku setting Bulma down gently.

"To know if she's—" Yamcha cleared his throat. "Give me your Dragon Balls and I might let you live."

"How does he know about them?" asked Oolong.

"I'll give you nothing," said Goku.

“They always say that,” Lady Puar pointed out.

"Stop being so headstrong," mumbled Oolong. "He'll kill us!"

"Listen to your friend," said Yamcha.

Goku cracked his knuckles. "Yesterday I was hungry. Today I'm gonna kick your ass." Goku charged with a fist ready, but Yamcha caught that in his hand. Then it was his turn; his fist met Goku's forearm. Goku sidestepped and came forward with a kick that hit Yamcha on the chin. He stumbled back and spit a mouthful of blood.

Yamcha stared at the boy in awe. He had been right. The boy had been trained by Son Gohan. There was nothing Yamcha could do to defeat him. Force wouldn't get him the balls. Goku lunged forward, ready to attack, when Yamcha shouted, "Wait!", and Goku stopped. "You're right. I'm being a big jerk. Let us start again, shall we?" Yamcha reached for his pocket and brought out a hoi-poi capsule. He threw the capsule and it turned into a small red car. "For you," he offered. "To finish your quest. It's the least I can do. You won. Now, go on. Out of here, friends." He and Lady Puar jumped in the jet and drove away.

"What just happened?" asked Oolong.

"I think Bulma was right," said Goku. "I think they're nice people after all."

"For Kami, don't let her hear you saying that. Besides, it might be a trap. It might explode and kills us. How do you know—Hey, wait!" Oolong watched Goku picked up Bulma and place her in the back seat of the car. "Yeah, okay, put her there first! That way when this thing goes kaboom, she can be—”

Goku jumped inside the car and pat the driver’s seat for Oolong. "Come on,” he urged and the man, defeated, obeyed.   
***

They drove for hours through the Mushroom Forest. It seemed to have no end. And the more South they went, the hotter it got. The temperature kept rising and rising until they were forced to roll down the windows and fan themselves with their hands.

Goku leaned on the car’s door and tried to relax. There was barely any wind to help with the heat. Bulma's blonde hair was glued to her face. Oolong, today, smelled like pork chops.

"Are we there yet?" cried Goku.

"Almost," said Oolong.

"Why is it so damn hot?" moaned Bulma.

Oolong made a psst sound. "It’s the Fire Mountain, you bimbo. You guys really have no clue where you're going."

Bulma looked bored. "Do tell."

Oolong glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Alright. Pay attention then. Once upon a time, it was called Pleasant Mountain," he began, "and all living creatures were beautifully happy."

"Bo-ring!" interrupted Bulma. "Jump to the good part, if there is one."

Oolong exhaled sharply. "Okay, so this guy became king all of the sudden... And about nine, ten years ago—well, no one knows exactly what happened, but they say that a spirit of fire fell from heaven, murdered his queen and cursed the Pleasant Mountain with eternal flame."

"Poor king," sympathized Goku.

The Fire Mountain appeared in the horizon giving them their first real vision of the place. It went as high as the sky. The fire burned around it making everything look eerie and extremely bright. Oolong stopped the car and they dashed outside.

"I can't believing I'm wearing pantyhose for this," said Bulma. 

"Maybe we should go back," gulped Oolong. "Leave Ox-King the hell alone!"

"Yeah, why Ox-King?" asked Bulma.

Oolong shrugged. "They also call him King of Demons, and I'm betting they have reason to."

"We're not leaving," said Goku.

"Suit yourself. You see that?" Oolong pointed to the top of the mountain where a castle stood ablaze. "That's where he keeps his treasures. If he has a Dragon Ball, there'll be the place to look."

"Is he trapped inside?" asked Goku.

"Of course not. He would've died. No, he was outside when it happened. Now, I really think going back it's the right thing—"

"You chicken shit," said Bulma.

"Are you one of those suicidal teenagers we hear about on TV?" he snapped.

Bulma's hands went to her waist. "We can fight as many Cow-Princes we need to."

Goku agreed. "My grandfather taught me that in order to save people we must be fearless. You can do it, too, Oolong! We'll do it together."

"We'll die together, you mean," mumbled Oolong, but he followed them toward Mount Fry-Pan.  
***

Yamcha watched them from afar, a binocular in hand. Lady Puar tried to look uninterested. She was still upset Yamcha hadn’t consulted her before giving their nicest car to their enemies. She was even more upset he hadn’t told her that car had a tracker in it. 

Yamcha wondered if the fat man was right. If the Ox-King had a Dragon Ball, wasn’t it likely he would’ve kept it inside the castle along with his other treasures? Especially if he didn't know what it was? But then, what if he did know? All of the stories about the Fire Mountain neglected to mention how the Ox-King had become king. What if he had wished for it?

The Ox-King had been a nobody before the Fire Mountain, but still Yamcha had heard of him. When he was a young lad, Yamcha had one dream only—he would train with the greatest martial artist of all times. As he grew, Yamcha locked that dream inside a little drawer and never again let it out. It was soon forgotten. But before that, he had been obsessed. He had researched everything he could and he knew of the master's last two disciples—Son Gohan and the Ox-King.

"Those morons will never get through those flames," said Lady Puar bringing Yamcha back to the present. "The heat is unbearable from here..."

"Maybe they will," said Yamcha. He'd started to think it was best never to underestimate those people. "They are very resourceful."

That’s when a scream echoed around them, followed by a loud roar. Yamcha looked around, afraid the noise would call the other’s attention, but it didn't. A girl came dashing toward them with a tyrannosaur at her heels. Yamcha couldn't see her properly—he only distinguished that she was showing a great amount of olive skin and had chocolate hair that fell down to her waist.

"Don’t get any closer!" she ordered the tyrannosaur. She came to a halt and the monster roared louder. As Yamcha watched, the girl took a boomerang blade out of nowhere and threw it at the tyrannosaur slicing its head off. Blood gushed everywhere as she caught the returning boomerang.

"Now I've seen everything," Yamcha decided.

The brunette turned toward him, breathing heavily. She had a heart shaped face and amber colored eyes that focused on Yamcha with so much hatred he almost backed away. She was certainly tall for her age, but there was some sort of childishness in her movements. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. She spoke with great authority, like she was used to bossing people around. 

Yamcha showed her his hands. "We mean you no harm."

"Answer the question,” she said. “Tell me what you want.”

"Nothing from you," he assured her. Clearly that was the wrong answer, judging by the way her lips pressed together in a fine line. The girl raised her half-moon blade and threw it at him. Yamcha, expecting it so, deflected it. With a swift movement, he hit her on the neck and she fell unconscious. Then he caught the boomerang. "This girl is dangerous," he told Lady Puar. "Come on. We've wasted enough time. We might've lost the others."

"You're just gonna leave her?" Lady Puar wondered. "She certainly had no effect on you. Not like the other one."

Yamcha sneered. "She's just a girl."

"You say that because you're in love with the blondie."

"I'm not—!" Yamcha tried to pull himself together. "This is not the time to—”

"No, it isn’t. Because that'd be crazy," said Puar. "You know that, right? You've only just met her."

Yamcha sighed. He was starting to think that old women didn't make for very good companions after all.  
***

Goku, Bulma and Oolong strolled along the Fry-Pan Village toward the Mountain. There was absolutely nobody on the streets, only endless amounts of ruins, downfalls and skeletons. Bulma grunted and shouted something incoherent that sounded like 'stinking hot'.

"Don't shout, you idiot!" snapped Oolong. "Wanna get us killed?"

Bulma stared at him astonished. "Respect me, you pig!" she ordered. "I am the brains of this operation. Now, Goku, call your happy cloud, fly into the mountain and find the Dragon Ball so we can leave this hell hole."

Goku hesitated. "Right now?"

"No, next year. Just go!"

Goku called Kinto'un—"Stop yelling,” Oolong pleaded—and did fly to the top of Mount Fry-Pan. But the flying nimbus only went so far. Goku urged her forward, but the cloud refused to get too close to the fire.

"I told you no one could do that," said Oolong watching Goku’s struggles.

"Man, Goku's cloud is such a prissy." She was not done talking when an ax came whistling by her head and lodged itself on the wall behind her. Oolong's eyes widened. Bulma turned around, open-mouthed. 

The man responsible for that was easily seven feet tall. Facial hair covered most of his face and a horned helmet lay on his head, but dark almond shaped eyes shone at them with rage. He wore steel made armor and the largest pair of combat boots Bulma had ever seen. When he spoke, the ground rumbled.

"What're ye doin' in mah land?"

Bulma took a step back trying to process the man in front of her. "Just—just passing by, uh..."

"Aimin' to swipe mah treasure, ain't ya?" he growled.

"Outrageous!" exclaimed Bulma regaining some of her composure. "We didn't even know there was a castle here. I guarantee you, this is a misunderstanding—"

Goku soared to her side, shouting, "It's too hot. I can't break into the castle."

There was a moment of awkward silence in which the Ox-King simply stared at her. Bulma let out a nervous laugh. "What Goku here means is… is that we..." she sighed. "Yeah, I've got nothing."

"Who's this creep?" asked Goku only just noticing the barbaric seven feet tall man beside him.

"Goku!” Bulma shouted. “This is the powerful, deadly and, hopefully, merciful Ox-King."

Oolong put his face on his hands. "We're all going to die."

"Ye, boy!" howled the Ox-King, now eyeing Goku. "That's the Kinto'un! Where'd ye get it? Ye stole it? No, ye couldn't have stolen it... ye'd not be able to ride it..."

"Roshi gave it to me," said Goku. "The ol' turtle guy."

Ox-King grimaced as if he was trying to smile. "Ay, mah ol' master! Do ye know where I can find him, boy? Will ye tell me where's mah invincible master or will I've to kill ya?"

Bulma stepped in. "Technically, you'll never know if you kill us."

"I kill the fat man and the girl then," boomed the Ox-King.

"Oh—but we do know where he is!" she quickly added. "We could go and get him for you. If that is something you want..."

"Nobody has to die," said Oolong.

The Ox-King seemed to consider that for a minute. Then he nodded. "Ay. I shall finally be able to return to mah home! To give a proper burial to mah lady wife and a roof over mah girl's head! Oy, boy! That on yer back! That's the Nyoibo, no less!"

Bulma nudged Oolong. "Wanna bet he recognizes Goku’s underwear, too?” But the fat man was too scared for humor. 

"Yeah, my grandpa gave it to me," said Goku, proudly. 

The Ox-King's dark eyes seemed to spark. "Old Gohan? Son Gohan was yer grandpa?"

Goku looked taken aback. "What is it to you?"

Unexpectedly, the Ox-King bowed to him. "It's an honor an' a privilege to meet Gohan's grandson! He was mah best friend—the greatest friend I ever had! Master Roshi's most wonderful student, he was! We learned from the master together. Oh, I remember it well, the day Master Korin himself gave yer grandpa the Power Pole!"

Bulma sneered. "Who would've thought? The old pervert is actually important."

"Now we know why the kid is so strong," Oolong whispered back to her. 

"But enough reminiscin'." The Ox-King perked up. "Memories can wait. Now, boy, accordin' to sources that shall remain unnamed, I may be able to put out that great fire with a device called the Bashosen, somethin' mah ol' master's supposed to have. Mind ye, there are the magical balls, but I don't have the means to search for 'em anymore." Bulma and Goku exchanged a look. "I'm old an' mah girl needs me. So ye, boy, will go and bring the Bashoshen to me. In return, I shall spare ye and yer friends."

"Or I could just kick you in th—”

Bulma covered Goku's mouth with her hand. "Would you be willing to give us something else, Your Highness?"

The Ox-King looked down on her. "Are ye still fancin' mah treasure?"

"No," said Bulma. "I want this." She took a Dragon Ball out of her backpack and showed it to him. "I'm almost sure you know what they are. And I suspect you are in possession of one, whether you realize it or not."

The Ox-King gaped at the globe. "I've forgotten how beautiful they are. I know this. I do own one. I found it by chance. A second time—that was really lucky. It shall be yers if ye desire it so. As soon as the devil's fire is extinguished from mah castle."

"Do we have your word?"  
"Don't ye dare doubt me, girl. And I shall also give ye a piece of advice. All magic comes with a price. Whatever it is ye wish for—think again. It might not be worth the trouble it'll bring ye. Look at me. King, they call me! And I can't set foot inside mah home!"

Bulma took that in consideration.

"I'll be off then," said Goku carefully.

The Ox-King turned to him. "I've another request to make of ye, boy. In exchange for the ball. Mah girl is nowhere to be seen. I fear she might be lost or in danger. Find her, I beg ye, and bring her back to me."

"How will I know her?"

"Her name's Chichi. She's a sweet girl, she is. If you succeed in this, I wouldn't hesitate in giving her to you."

Goku raised his eyebrows. "You'd give your daughter to me? Would that make her... my daughter?"

Bulma, Oolong and the Ox-King rolled their eyes and shook their heads.


	8. Chapter Seven—...And Into The Fire

The moment the Ox-King mentioned a daughter, Yamcha felt as if a rock was making its way down his throat. If what he feared was true, he had knocked out a princess and left her helpless in a field where there might be other dinosaurs. Yuck.

He and Lady Puar ran back to the field and luckily found the girl still unconscious near the decapitated head of the tyrannosaur. Yamcha took her in his arms and slapped her face as softly as he could. "Wake up, little princess! Don't be dead."

The girl opened her amber eyes and blinked a few times, puzzled. Then she pushed Yamcha back and crawled away from him.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he promised. "Are you alright, Princess Chichi?"

She froze. "How do you know my name?"

"That doesn't matter."

"Why did you hit me?"

"I didn't—I mean—I was right out of my mind!" he exclaimed. "Completely, utterly—"

"—crazy in love," finished Lady Puar.

"What?" Yamcha stood up. The he got it. "Oh, I mean, yes. Oh yes. That's right. Me. In love. With you." He tried to smile but found it unbelievably difficult.

The girl eyed him, unsure, but there was a glimpse of a smile in her face. "Really?"

"Definitely."

"How will I know you're not lying?"

Yamcha tsked. "Is this the face of a liar?"

Chichi slowly stood and regarded him thoughtfully. "Nobody ever said that to me before. You're very sweet. But… aren't you a little old?"

"I am!" he snapped his fingers. "So naturally, I'd better be going. However will I get over you? Okay, bye."

Chichi watched him leave, disappointed. Make no mistake, she wasn't disappointed at the fact that he'd left her there, she was disappointed at how indifferent she'd felt when he had proclaimed his love for her. Chichi was a hopeless romantic. For years she'd dreamed of the day a dashing young man would declared his feelings for her. But in every single one of those dreams, she'd reciprocate the feeling immediately and wholeheartedly.

She smiled at her own foolishness. She didn't know what a man would've to do to get her to love him. In her silly dreams it would happen instantaneously, the moment they saw each other for the very first time. No name exchanges, no words, just a simple look and a waterfall of feelings washing over them.

"Are you Chichi?"

Chichi turned around and gasped. A boy sat on a yellowish cloud and soared above her. He was young, with jet black hair, startling blue eyes and a cute lopsided grin. He wasn’t especially tall or especially handsome, but something about him told Chichi at once that he was very strong. "You also know my name? Are you in love with me too?" she asked wistfully.

Goku hesitated. "I'm not sure..." he stammered. "But you're father did say he'd give you to me."

"He did?!" she gasped.

Goku smiled at her excitement. This was the second teenage girl he had met, but other than being pretty, she had nothing in common with Bulma. In fact, her features were the opposite—simpler, more natural, more… sweet. She had chocolate hair and amber colored eyes. He found that oddly compelling. Her olive skin shone in the sun light and he noticed the hairs in her arms were bristly. "You need to come with me. I'm going to find the Bashoshen to save your father's castle."

Her eyes widened. "Really?" Chichi tried to focus. Her heart was beating really fast now. She had dreamed of this—of a hero who would save her father's kingdom and as reward have her hand in marriage. And now it was truly happening.

"Yeah," he said. "Come."

Chichi stepped forward. "But—is it safe? Your cotton ball, I mean."

"Only if your heart is pure."

"How will I know?"

"I believe in you." Goku stood and reached out his hand. "Do you trust me?"

Chichi looked up at the stranger and smiled. Her breathing was shallow and there were butterflies fluttering inside her stomach. But the strangest part was that she did—she did trust him. Chichi took his hand and he pulled her up. Next thing she knew, Chichi was firmly standing on top of the flying nimbus, still clutching his hand, so close their noses were almost touching.

Goku wanted her to move away, and yet he wanted her to stay like that a little longer. He watched as her lips parted, unsure of what came next. Somehow one of his hands had ended up at her bare waist and he could feel the warmth of her skin. She was so close he wondered if the heat wasn't emanating from her rather than from the Fire Mountain. Her breath smelled of cinnamon, which reminded him how Grandpa Gohan used to always add cinnamon to their hot cocoa.

"What's your name?" she asked.

Goku made a whimpering sound. Then he cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm Goku."

"So you're gonna marry me someday, Goku?" she asked, dead serious.

"If you want me to," he heard himself saying. "Anything else you want to do?"

Her cheeks colored. "My mother used to say the boy is supposed to think of the most pleasant things in the world and then convince the girl to do it. What do you like to do?"  
Goku frowned. "Fight. I like to fight."

"I can fight,” she shrugged. “But I shan't fight you. Besides, I think you'll find that there's lots of other pleasant things in the world a boy and a girl can do together."

"Well, when I do, I'll find you again and I’ll convince you to doing them with me," he vowed.

Chichi felt like she could fly without the magic cloud. The smile was spreading fast on her face, from ear to ear, until she saw the tail. The brown thing moved like it was happy, and she realized it was actually attached to Goku. "What—" she started asking. Chichi stepped away from him so she could see him better, and his hand left her waist. She slipped and was about to fall off—her only alternative was to hold on to the tail. She grabbed the thing and probably crushed it because Goku gasped and fell on the ground pulling her along with him.

"I'm so sorry," she said quickly, sitting up. "Are you okay, Goku?"

He sat up, too, and massaged his own head. "Yeah, it's okay. I'm alright. Are you?" She nodded. "I just... You can't ever touch my tail. If you grab it like that.... Well, I lose all my strength."

"I'm so sorry," she said again. "I didn't mean to… I was just surprised. Why do you have a tail?"

"Until recently I didn't know I wasn't supposed to have one. I can't help it. Besides," he helped her to her feet, "it gives me balance."

Chichi giggled. She let him help her again onto the cloud and they sat side by side. "So where are we going?" she asked.

"To find master Roshi. He lives out on the sea."

"You don't know exactly where? But the sea is huge!"

"Then I guess we'll get to spend a whole lot of time together,” said Goku, not at all sorry.   
***

From behind a bush, Yamcha grinned. "Did you hear that, Puar?" he mused. "The boy has a weakness! The freak's tail! How lucky are we today?"

"Lucky I told you to stay here and listen, you ninny," said Lady Puar. 

"Yeah, well. The girl’s a flirt."

"Yes, and the fifteen-year-old boy handled the situation better than you did. Shame."

Yamcha crossed his arms, defensively. “That’s not true, you old hag. Now let's hope they find the Dragon Balls, the sixth and the seventh. Then we strike."  
***

It took only a few hours to find Roshi's island. Goku wasn't sure he was glad or disappointed at that. It was the only piece of land in several miles of water. The shack was right on the middle of the island. It was pink colored, three stories high and covered with a red roof. Above the third floor window, it read in large red words—KAME HOUSE.

Goku and Chichi jumped off Kinto'un. The sand was soft under their feet. For a moment, they both smiled at each other under the bluest of skies. Here, a cool breeze could be felt. It was refreshing. Then, they noticed the old bald man standing by the porch. He was wearing a simple orange shirt, khaki shorts, flip-flops, sunglasses, and his purple turtle hull.

"My, my, my," he greeted them.

"That's the invincible master?" whispered Chichi.

"How are you, Roshi?" said Goku, waving. 

"Never better, lad. Having fun in that, are you?" he gestured toward Kinto'un; the cloud waited for Goku near the shore.

"Yes," he said. "It's amazing. Thank you."

"Of course it is! I earned that from old Kamisama himself! Wasn't the girl with you… eh... bigger? In all possible meanings?"

Goku glanced at Chichi. "Uh… I don't... This is Chichi," he told the master. "She's the daughter of the Ox-King."

Roshi straightened up. "Ox-King, you say? The legitimate daughter? Um, only one way to find out, I supposed." he turned toward Chichi. "What is your father's true name?"

She didn't hesitate. "Gyumaoh."

Master Roshi's cheeks dimpled. "Can it be? Well, the other girl had a different name... I remember... One's called Chichi, the other has 'chi-chis'," he nudged Goku on the ribs, "know what I mean? Heh heh heh! Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"We're here for something called Bah—Bash—Bah—"  
"The Bashosen," Chichi provided.

"The soup?" asked Roshi.

"What?" said Goku.

"No!" said Chichi.

"The magic fan that can raise a typhoon with a single wave, a thunderstorm with two, and a monsoon with three," said Umigame slowly coming their way.

"Hey, you," said Goku. "Didn't see you there."

Roshi was still mumbling to himself. "The soup I don't have anymore. I made it, not two days ago. I also spilled it all over myself, and lemme tell you, that kind of stain doesn't go away with anything!"

"We need the Magic Fan," said Chichi urgently. "We need to put out the eternal fire of Mount Fry-Pan so my father and I can go back into our home. We'll bring it right back, master Roshi, I promise!"

Roshi scratched his beard. "I heard about that damned fire. But you see, child, I'm afraid I've misplaced the Magic Fan a long time ago."

"What does that mean?"

"I've lost it."

"You what?!"

"I don't remember where I've put it."

Goku watched their argument stupefied. Without the Bashosen there was no deal, no Dragon Ball, no getting his friends out of Mount Fry-Pan without a fight.

"If I'm not mistaken, master," said Umigame, "you were using it as a pot holder not long ago."

"A pot holder?" snapped Chichi.

"That was the Bashosen?" said Roshi puzzled. "I spilled the soup on that too! Like I said, the stain doesn't come off, so I simply threw it away."

"Oh, no."

"Never fear, child," boasted Roshi. "Since I'm to blame for this entire mess, and since I once cared deeply for my student, I shall personally travel back to the Fire Mountain with you both and put out the inferno myself."

Goku's eyes widened. "You can do that?"

Roshi glanced at him like he was crazy. "Of course, lad. There's nothing I can’t do. Now, let's roll."

"But you can't climb the Kinto'un!"

"Pff, you think I gave away my only method of transportation? One that never worked, mind you. I'll fly my jet. Now Umigame, you're in charge of the island while I'm gone. Don't let those damned crabs get the best of you."  
***

Bulma tried to clean her forehead but found that her hand was soaking wet, too. She cursed whoever was to blame for this fire from hell. When she heard Goku's voice in the distance, she thought she was hallucinating. But he arrived on his flying nimbus accompanied by a girl. "Finally," she muttered more to herself than to the others.

The brunette rushed to the Ox-King's side. "Papa," she cried, "your old invincible master doesn't have the Bashosen no more!"

"There ain't no Bashosen no more?" grumbled the Ox-King.

"He's coming here though," added Goku. "He says he can put out the fire."

Bulma stood up. "And you believed him?"

Roshi landed his jet and climbed out of it, his legs shaking. "Hate to fly," he explained. "Terrified of heights, you see."

Oolong sneered. "All your hopes are on him?"

"Gyumaoh?" said Roshi focusing his eyes on the Ox-King. "I find you very changed, lad. Been getting a bad reputation, haven't you? All those treasures must've cost you a few lives... Athenodora's included."

The Ox-King stared at his own shoes. "Yes, master. That is true." Suddenly, he felt to his knees—the ground shook with his weight—in front of his master and tugged at Roshi's khaki shorts. "Oh, the shame I bear!" he wailed. "I've been so blinded by greed! My poor Athenodora, how I miss her! It's my fault mah girl had to grow without a mother... But I've seen the light, master. If you help me, I'll be good. I'll use the treasure to rebuilt this village. I'll help mah people. I'll take care of them like a good king should."

Bulma poked Oolong. "See? He's just a big ol' softie."

"You won't owe me a thing, my dear friend," said Roshi. "If you ever come to do good deeds, do not do them in my name. And it is really a shame you had to raise your child outside that great castle of yours. And I'm sorry about Athenodora, Gyumaoh. I remember how good you were together." He patted the Ox-King awkwardly on the back. "I'm also disappointed you can't put out this tiny blaze yourself."

Gyumaoh raised his head, his almond-shaped eyes filled with tears. "It is part of mah punishment, master. I can't get rid of the flames mahself. Someone needs to help me, you see? But who would want to help the King of Demons, I ask you? Who?"

"I will help you." Roshi removed his turtle hull and started unbuttoning his shirt. Bulma made a gagging sound. Roshi threw the shirt on the ground and smiled at her, flexing his muscles. "Not bad, uh?"

Bulma stepped away from him. "Excuse me, I gotta go vomit."

Roshi took a deep breath and straightened his back. He closed his eyes and stood very still, indeed, as the others watched him carefully. His breathing slowed and his skin seemed to glow as if some sort of aura was being formed around him. Then suddenly, he raised his arms and let out a sound like 'Gawa!'

Gyumaoh gulped. "He's building the Kamehameha wave!"

A few feet away, Yamcha leaned over a broken wall. "I've heard of this technique," he told Puar. "It's master Roshi's legendary move... He concentrates all his dormant energy into a single focused blast! I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes!"

Slowly, Roshi shouted, "KAME-HAME-HA!" There were a few hand movements involved and then a bright blue ball of energy left his body and sped toward the Ox-King's castle. They were all temporary blind by the light, but they heard the damage the blast made alright.

"Uff, that was a big one," said Roshi.

"That was awesome!" cheered Goku.

Gyumaoh gaped at his old master. "Ye did put out the fire, just like ye promised..."

"And destroyed your freaking house while at it!" exclaimed Bulma.

"And the mountain," noted Oolong.

It was true. Where once Mount Fry-Pan stood as tall as the sky, now there was nothing but a big pile of ruins. There were rocks and gold and ashes, all mixed together. Roshi glanced at Gyumaoh apologetically. "Oops?"  
***

Oolong and Bulma walked through the wreckage searching the debris.

"We'll never find the Dragon Ball," he complained. "It might've been destroyed."

"It's showing on the radar," she told him. Bulma glanced at the device in her hand once more. "A little bit to the left, Oolong."

"It's getting real cold, ain't it?" chuckled Gyumaoh.

"I'm sorry about your house," apologized Roshi one more time. "I don't know what—"

"Forget about it, master," said Chichi. "It hardly matters. A house it's not a home, that's what mother used to say. We'll build a new one. A better one."

Gyumaoh embraced his daughter. "She is just like Athenodora, ain't she? Not just the looks, I always said, not just the looks."

Goku leaped around master Roshi. "That was incredible. You need to show me again. I need you to teach me how to do that!"

Roshi chuckled with his entire body. "Oh, lad, you're young and innocent. It took me fifty years of hard training to succeed in doing that. It takes more than just—"

"Fifty years?" exclaimed Goku. "I might be dead then."

"Nonsense. A strong lad like you—Holy cow!" shouted Roshi. Goku had just managed to form a small blue ball of energy. "How did you—How can you—"

Gyumaoh laughed so much he had to bend over. "Well, he is Gohan's grandson, ain't he?"

Roshi stumbled. "Gohan? Son Gohan? Our Gohan, you mean?"

"Ye didn't know, master?"

"I understand now," said Roshi watching Goku give the Kamehameha wave a few more tries. "I remember Gohan telling me about a child—with a tail, no less. Hey, lad, how's your grandpa doing?"

Goku froze and glanced at Roshi. "He's dead." He hated to be the one to tell him. He saw Roshi wince and Gyumaoh's body seemed to shrink a bit.

"Dead," repeated Roshi, the color leaving his face. "What a great loss to this world. We shall never meet another soul so gentle, so kind. Do you have a place to live, lad? Are you all alone? I'd be happy to take you in."

Goku's eyes lit up. "Seriously? I'd love that! To live where my grandpa lived. To train as he trained. Master, I'd be glad to go with you as soon as our quest ends."

"Found it!" Bulma shouted suddenly. "Six stars, Goku! Ronshinchu!" She jogged toward him and hugged him. Goku felt Chichi piercing him with her amber eyes. "Only one left!"

Gyumaoh peered at her with sad eyes. "Remember what I told ye, girl. Magic has its price."

Bulma nodded. "I'll remember. Thank you for everything."

"No, thank ye," beamed Gyumaoh. "For ev'rything ye did for me and mah lil' girl."  
***

While they talked and said their goodbyes, Chichi took Goku's hand and pulled him a little farther away. Her courage had left her, her legs seemed made of jelly. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but something stopped her. Maybe if she kept certain things to herself it would give her a reason to find him again.

Goku watched her nervously. He wasn't comfortable with goodbyes. He had never had a chance to say it to his grandpa—one day he was simply gone. He didn't want the same thing to happen to Chichi. Part of him didn't want to leave her behind, but he knew she wasn't part of this quest. She was part of something else, perhaps something even greater.

Chichi took a step toward him and tilted her head up. Goku looked down on her and felt her lips slightly brushing his. It was as if an electrical current had gone through his body. He liked how that felt.

"When all of this is over, will you find me again?" she asked. Her voice was soft, a little higher than a whisper, but he heard the pleading in it.

"Yes, Chichi," he said. "I promise."

"Really?" her eyes sparkled.

Goku smiled. "There isn't anywhere else I'd rather return to."


	9. Chapter Eight—The Rabbit Of Seville

From Mount Fry-Pan they headed North. Oolong drove the car Yamcha had given them back through the Mushroom Forest. Bulma sat beside him with her window opened. She closed her eyes feeling the wind on her face. Goku was lying on the backseat, resting.

"Are you sure there's a town around here?" asked Bulma. "I'm getting sick of mushrooms."

"I'm not sure," answered Oolong. "I never came this South before. But I hope so. We're running out of fuel."

"There!" she shouted suddenly. Oolong saw what she was pointing to. A few meters away a sign welcomed them to Seville. Oolong thanked Kami. "We're saved," said Bulma.

As they entered the village, Oolong decreased the speed. Bulma shoved her head out the window to look around. A woman that was crossing the street saw her and screamed. A few others looked toward Bulma and ran away. 

Oolong laughed. "See the effect you have on people, floozie?" Bulma smacked the back of his head. Oolong parked at the gas station. "Fill the tank, mister," he asked.

The attendant was tall man with dark facial hair and round glasses. He wore simple peasant clothes and a white turban. His hands shook as he answered them. "W-will l-liquid platinum d-d-do, sir?"

Oolong shrugged. "Yeah, whatever."

Bulma got out of the car and stretched. The attendant walked away but wouldn't stop staring at her. "I think I need to get out of this sex costume. People are getting freaked out. I'm going shopping," she told Oolong. She glanced at Goku who was sleeping. "Take care of him."

The main street was packed with people of all sorts of size and style. The crowd parted to let her pass. Some people gasped and some hid behind others. Even the men were running from her—it was an entire new experience. Bulma frowned. "What, people?" They stared at her open-mouthed. "Oh, I understand. You never saw someone so gorgeous before. I know it can be a little overwhelming, but pointing and staring is rude!"

Bulma found a hoi-poi store and walked in happily. The clerk stood very still as she went through his selection—or better saying the lack of it. "Not many choices, uh?"

The clerk backed away as if she'd hit him. "Please, forgive me!" he cried.

"No, it's fine," Bulma assured him. She picked the capsules she needed and showed them to him. "I'll take these. Could you number and put them in a case?" The clerk did as she asked with very agile hands. "Thank you. How much for them?"

He handed her a little white box. "No charge, ma'am. On the house, of course."

Bulma's eyes sparkled. "Why, then I'll take them all!" She laughed at his expression. "I'm joking. It was a joke. Sorry." The fear in his eyes unsettled her. She walked out of there and into a clothing store. The tailor was just as jumpy. Bulma was able to find a good pair of jeans and a black blouse that fitted her perfectly. She also picked up some boots. Then she handed the tailor the entire bunny costume and asked him to get rid of it. "Burn that. Give it to your wife. I don't care."

The tailor examined the bunny ears. "You're—you're not part of—of the R-rabbit Mob?"

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "What's a Rabbit Mob? A bunch of adorable bunnies that try to kill you with cuteness so they can eat your vegetables?"

The tailor grimaced and demanded her to leave his store at once. "You're a spoiled girl! You can't play with serious things like that!"

"Rude!" she shouted back. "Who are you to judge? You're afraid of rabbits, mister!"

Shaking her head, Bulma made her way back to the gas station. No one noticed her this time. There was no pointing, no whispering, no hiding.

"Guess what?" said Oolong. "The gas' on the house!"

"So was the capsules."

Goku sat up. "Have you bought any food, Bulma?" he yawned. "I'm starving."

"No," she said. "But we can go eat somewhere."

"Never send the girl shopping," remarked Oolong.

From down the main street, paraded two soldiers wearing navy blue uniforms with brown boots and belts, and black rabbit ears on top of their heads. The villagers who hadn't hid upon seeing Bulma now disappeared into their homes until the town ended up deserted.

The first soldier, a thin faced man carrying a shotgun, boasted, "This place's dead! I'm telling you, this job gets more boring everyday."

The other one, a fat dark skinned man, laughed. "I know. Not a single decent chick..."

Oolong, Bulma and Goku watched as a little boy came running from behind a car and tried to cross the street to where his mother was hiding and waiting for him. But the soldiers saw him too. In fear, the boy tripped and fell on his face in front of the soldiers.

"Who said you could cross our path, boy?" asked the tall soldier, grabbing the boy's shirt and pulling him up.

The boy's mother came rushing to the rescue. She fell to her knees in front of the soldiers and begged. "Please, forgive him! Sir... he's only a boy!"

The tall soldier threw the boy at his friend and kicked the woman on the stomach. She fell sideways on the asphalt, spitting blood and crying for mercy. "Teach him," one soldier told the other.

Bulma stepped out of the gas station. "Hey! Why don't you pick on someone your size, jackass?"

The two soldiers turned toward her. "That's a chick, Roger," said the fat one. "A chick I've never seen before."

Roger, the tall soldier, smirked. "Ay, Peter. How could we have missed her? Call us, hon?" he said to her.

"Call you a jackass, yes."

Peter laughed. "Come on, bird. You'll have more fun with us!"

Bulma crossed her arms. "Fat chance, man boobs."

The little boy, now forgotten, rushed to his mother. He helped her up and the two of them ran away.

"Chill out, hon," said Roger. "Being mean isn’t as attractive as you think it is. Now come. Spend time with real men."

Bulma pretended to look around. "Why? You've seen any?"

"I take it back,” he said. “You’re a turn on."

"She must be new, Peter. For there's no heart that doesn't freeze in terror at the sight of the Rabbit Mob!"

"Ahhh," said Bulma. "You guys are this Rabbit Mob, I heard about. Silly me! Too bad I don't have time for a terrified heart-freeze."

Suddenly, Roger had his shotgun pointed at her face. "Now you're just being cute," he growled.

"You don't want to do that," warned Bulma.

"Oh, I think I do."

"Bulma?" Goku's voice was steady but no more than a whisper. Bulma understood, he was asking if she wanted help.

"Don't you know, Goku?" she said without taking her eyes from Roger. "A lady never starts a fight. But she might as well finish 'em." With a quick movement, Bulma kicked Roger's arm throwing the shotgun away. She punched him in the face hearing the pleasant sound of a nose being broke. Bulma did a handstand and grabbed Peter's neck with her legs pulling him down to the ground and choking him until he fell unconscious.

She grabbed his gun and stood up. "I'll be taking this. You don't want to hurt yourself."

Yamcha, who was still watching the gang from afar sighed dreamily. "I love her," he told Puar, which earned him a slap on the ear.

"Nice, Bulma!" cheered Goku.

Oolong was gaping at her. "Am I the only normal person around here?"

"No," said Bulma, "you're disgusting."

Roger, who until now was moaning and bleeding on the floor, grabbed a walkie-talkie from his inside pocket. "Bugs Bunny!" he said urgently. "We were beaten—Peter Rabbit's hurt—A girl—She broke my nose! Come now, please!"

The gas station attendant threw a cabbage at Goku. "How can we ever thank you for bringing doom on us all?!"

"Oh, that's gratitude, right there," mumbled Oolong.

"He pointed a gun at me," Bulma reminded him. "I'm not in the wrong here! I'm the victim, goddamn it!"

"Boss is gonna end you, bitch," growled Roger Rabbit. Then he choked and had a coughing fit.

"What did you say to me?"

"You're asses are grasses," he managed to say.

Bulma scratched her head with the gun. "I might've hit him too hard. He's hallucinating."

"You're carrots and you're about to get nibbled!" mused Roger Rabbit.

"Yeah, I never liked carrots," noted Goku.

An engine noise could be heard now. A white beetle car came at full speed through the main street. It came to a halt a few meters away from the gas station. The man that came out of it made Bulma grimace. The albino man looked sick beyond remedy. His skin was sallow and his eyes bloodshot. He was so thin Bulma was sure she'd be able to count his ribs were it not for the white rabbit suit he was wearing. He bared his teeth and she noticed how the two front ones were longer than the others.

Oolong whistled. "The circus has officially come to town!"

"Where are those responsible for my coming?" squealed the bunny man.

"Right there, boss," pointed Roger.

From behind a car, Yamcha hissed, "I've seen this—this man before."

"That's the girl, uh?" Bugs Bunny peered at Bulma. His eyes were crazed. "I never liked girls."

"Bet none liked you either," said Bulma.

Bugs Bunny's lips curved upwards. "See? That, right there, is why I never had girlfriends."

She grinned. "Really, man? That is why? You sure that's the reason?"

The albino stepped closer to Bulma. Her heart raced. His appearance freaked her out. "I'm Bugs," he said reaching out his hand. "Press the flesh."

Oolong sneered. "Is this guy for real?"

"I remember," shouted Yamcha from behind the car. "The Carrot Master! Whatever you do, DO NOT TOUCH—"

Bulma slapped Bugs' hand away. "Get away, freak!"

Bugs' face turned serious. "You touched," he said emotionless. Bulma didn't even have time to find that strange. She turned into a normal sized carrot right in front of their eyes. Bugs Bunny picked her up.

Yamcha's eyes widened. "I failed her," he wailed. "I could've saved her!"

Goku stepped forward, his head spinning. Had Bulma just gotten turn into a carrot? He hated carrots, he was sure. "What did you do?" he demanded. "Bring her back! Now!"

Bugs Bunny studied him. "Would you like to be a carrot, too?"

"Let's just leave, Goku!" exclaimed Oolong. "I never liked that minx anyway! Always talking, she was. We're better off without her, really..."

"Shut up." Goku never took his eyes off the carrot. "Bulma may be annoying and disrespectful, but she's my friend—my best friend—and I want her back now!"

"And how do you plan to do that?" asked Oolong exasperated. "You can't touch him, if I heard correctly from the guy following us."

Goku grabbed Nyoibo.

"If you move," warned Bugs, "I'll eat her." He raised the carrot to his mouth.

"Bulma was the one with the bright ideas..." complained Goku.

"Sorry, lad," said Oolong suddenly. "Not my problem, you see. She was pretty, sure, but not worth this." He turned into a fly and vanished.

Goku cursed him.

"Now, Roger Rabbit will beat your ass and you'll let him," said Bugs Bunny. "Otherwise so long to your girlfriend."

Goku dropped the Nyoibo. Roger approached with a grin and kicked Goku on the stomach like he had done with the woman trying to protect her child. Goku fell to his knees. Roger kicked him again and again. The air left Goku's lungs. His face exploded in pain when a kick hit him there. Goku spat a mouthful of blood.

Yamcha straightened up. He told himself he had no choice, that if he didn't help they would never find the last Dragon Ball and he would never get to steal them. He told Lady Puar to snatch the carrot and stepped forward, distracting Bugs Bunny. Lady Puar shifted into a bird and soared above Bugs' head. In a quick move, she lunged and grabbed the carrot with her claws.

Yamcha kicked Roger Rabbit on the head knocking him out. As the man fell, Yamcha knelt beside Goku and helped him up. "We've got the girl," he told him. "Finish the freak!"

Goku struggled to his feet. He grabbed the Nyoibo and turned to face his enemy. Bugs gulped and stepped back. "Calm there, now..." he urged. "If you kill me, you'll never have your girlfriend back!"

Goku reached out his hand and Lady Puar handed him Bulma. "Turn her back."

Bugs seemed to think about it. "Do you swear you won't kill me?"

Goku didn't hesitate. "I so swear."

With an evil grin, Bugs Bunny clapped his hands twice and Bulma was brought back. She fell to the ground dazzled. Yamcha helped her up. Bulma then saw Bugs and her eyes narrowed with anger. She roared like a lion and lunged at him, but Yamcha held her back. "Hey, hey—"

"Lemme show him where he can put his carrots!" she shouted.

Goku found some rope near the gas station and tied Bugs Bunny, Roger and Peter Rabbit together. He wrapped part of the rope to a point of Nyoibo and made the baton stretch its size. He and the three rabbit men went up into the sky. Bulma, Yamcha and Lady Puar waited, puzzled, until Goku returned to the ground a few minutes later.

"What the hell?" said Bulma. "What did you do with them? Where did you take them? I was going to—"

"Don't you remember the old rabbit tale?" asked Goku with a shrug.

"Should I?"

Goku put Nyoibo away. "My grandpa used to tell me legends and tales," he explained. "Do you want to know how it goes?" Bulma shrugged. Goku cleared his throat. "Well, there was once a fox, a monkey and a rabbit. One day they found an old man very tired and hungry. As good as the three of them were, the animals went hurrying off to find some food for the old beggar. The monkey brought a lot of fruits and the fox caught a big fish, but the rabbit couldn't find anything at all to bring him. He came back though, and told the old man the truth, that he had nothing to give him. He then offered the man his own flesh. Before the beggar could reply, the rabbit threw himself on the fire and died."

"That is a horrible tale," said Bulma.

"The old man," continued Goku, "took the dead rabbit in his arms and said, 'the fox and monkey were good, but the rabbit, oh, he was fabulously kind.' So the beggar, instead of eating the rabbit, put him on the moon, our very moon, where, if you look carefully, when is shining whole and brightly, you'll see the rabbit there still and always remember his kindness."

Bulma stared at him in awe. Goku was so sweet, she couldn't quite believe it. "Thank you for saving me," she said softly. "All of you," she added to the others. Yamcha's ears turned purple.

Goku smiled. "Are you kidding? Whatever would I do without you yelling at me?"

She nudged him playfully and they laughed.  
***

They found Oolong having a very good meal at the nearest dinner. Everyone was tired and hungry, so they joined him, even though he was a back-stabbing little shit.

"We knew we could count on you," noted Bulma.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Goku. "You smell danger and go running the other way!"

"And I'm wrong how?" sneered Oolong. "You're the one with the problem, kiddo. You smell danger and go after it! That'll get you killed, you know." He shoved a forkful of pancakes in his mouth. "Besides, I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Only because of the Dragon Balls," Bulma pointed out.

"Ha! Like they're not here because of the Dragon Balls," said Oolong eyeing Yamcha and Lady Puar suspiciously. "We're all here because of them."

"Yes, we are," agreed Bulma. "But we stick together. We put our necks out there for each other. To keep each other safe."

Oolong shrugged like that didn't interest him. "What are you planning to do with them, anyway?" he asked. "The Dragon Balls, I mean. There's five of us now. Who gets to make the wish?"

"Not you."

"This is not about wishes," said Goku. "We—"

"I'm sorry, Goku," interrupted Bulma. "But I do. It was my idea and without me there are no Dragon Balls. I spent years on this! I designed the radar. The wish is mine." She glanced at each one of them as if daring anyone to argue.

"What will you wish for?" asked Yamcha, trying to hide his curiosity.  
She looked down at her plate. "Does it matter?"

"You spoiled little brat!" said Oolong with disdain. "You want people to risk their necks for you when you don't really want anything?"

"Shut up," growled Bulma. "You're so fat I'm surprised you even have a neck." Oolong's face turned red and he stared at Bulma with contempt. 

“She got you there,” said Lady Puar, sipping her soda. 

"However," she continued, "I’m not unfair. Let's say I'd consider giving it to you. What would you wish for?"

"Something worth the trouble," said Oolong.

"Like what?" she insisted. "World peace?"

"No! I don't care about that. Maybe a good beautiful woman to take care of me—"

The whistling sound was not warning enough. The entire left side of the dinner exploded and Oolong, Bulma, Goku, Yamcha and Lady Puar were thrown aside. A lot of things caught on fire. The building started to collapse.

A cyborg, maybe eight feet tall, looked down on them. Its hand reached forward and it grabbed Bulma's backpack. She was so stunned from the blast she couldn't move.

"So long suckers," a voice boomed.  
***

Their car was still intact so the five of them got in it. Yamcha, who was the least hurt, took the wheel. Bulma sat beside him.

"We shouldn't be surprised more people are after them..." she remarked. "There are chronicle documents, you know, things I should've destroyed. Damn it!"

"It's not your fault," said Yamcha softly.

"But what if they have the last one?" moaned Oolong.

"Oh, no."

Bulma looked so distressed Goku almost laughed. "I still have mine, duh," he said.

Bulma turned toward him. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "That's true! Oh, I love you, Monkey Boy!" She shoved her head out the car window. "YOU'VE MISSED ONE, YOU IMBECILES! BOOYAH! Come on, let's get our Dragon Balls back, ladies and gentlemen!"

Even Oolong couldn't help smiling. "But how will we find them?"

Bulma patted her pocket belt. "I always have a plan, Oolong. And I keep my radar close to me."  
***

Mai and Shu handed Pilaf the purple backpack with a smile on their faces. The emperor opened the bag and took a long hard look inside. Then he sighed.

"I wish you'd count them,” he said. “Then again, I'm not entirely sure you know how to count."

Mai stammered. "My lord...?"

"THERE'S ONE MISSING!" he shouted. Then he took a deep breath. "I'll forgive you today," he said. "But only because I know whoever has the last one will come looking for these."

Shu pointed behind him. "They're here."

Pilaf turned around to face his surveillance cameras. He saw two boys, a fat man, an old lady and a girl coming out of a red car. "Already? Hmm, must be those 'instant enemies' you hear about on the telly..."


	10. Chapter Nine—The Legend Of Son Goku

Bulma didn't think she would see something uglier than the Mushroom Forest so soon. Boy, was she wrong. The castle before them would probably make the architects she knew slit their wrists.

"It's huge," noticed Goku. Bulma paid him no mind. She was sure everything was huge for him if compared to his little cottage.

The front door was open but they saw only darkness inside. Bulma reached for her gun and gave Yamcha the one she had stolen from Peter Rabbit. "I think we've been expected," she said.

They walked in together and slowly. The dark corridor seemed to go on forever. No one made a sound. When they reached the end, they saw the glowing figure of an arrow on the ground pointing right.

"See?" whispered Bulma. "They know we're here."

"Then... shall we?" asked Goku hesitantly. Everybody shrugged. They followed the arrow through another infinite corridor. This one, however, took them to a dead end. "This isn't right," said Goku patting the wall. Suddenly, a fourth wall came out of nowhere sealing them in.

"Oh, great!" exclaimed Oolong. "We're doomed!"

Goku and Yamcha promptly started to push the walls as if that would do them any good.  
***

In his control room, Pilaf watched his prisoners. "Soon, Mai," he said, "no leader on Earth shall act without an order from Emperor Pilaf."

The door slammed behind them and they turned. Shu had just walked in. "Sorry," he said. "Uh, the Dragon Ball wasn't in the car, sire."

"Go," ordered Pilaf. "Both of you." He watched them leave, then pressed the microphone button to allow the sound to reach the prisoners. "Visitors," he greeted. "Welcome. I am Emperor Pilaf, the—"

"—idiot who stole my Dragon Balls!" shouted Bulma.

Pilaf greeted his teeth. "Insolent. You have the Sushinchu and you'll give it to me!"

"How about no?"

Oolong shook his head. "We shouldn't be letting her deal with him."

Suddenly, the wall opened up and Shu and Mai pointed guns at Bulma. She and Yamcha pointed theirs back.

"If you fire your weapons," boomed Pilaf, "I'll kill you with fire. Now, hand the gun to your friend and follow my minions."

Bulma set her jaw and handed Yamcha the gun. "Wait," he said.

"It's fine," she assured him. She stepped out and the wall sealed behind her. Bulma followed Mai and Shu back to the control room. The so called Emperor was even uglier in person. Short, blue and with a permanent scowl he shared a deep resemblance with a misshapen leprechaun she once had the displeasure of meeting. He gestured toward a chair in the deep corner of the room and she sat on it. He tied her wrists.

“Am I supposed to sit here and watch?”

"Where is my Dragon Ball?" Pilaf asked her friends.

"Where not giving it to you!" Bulma heard Goku say. The look on the Emperor's face did not please her. Pilaf gave a tiny nod and the ginger man who stood beside Bulma slapped her across the face. She tried not to, but she moaned all the same.

"You son of a bitch!" she heard Yamcha shout and her heart raced.

"You refuse to cooperate," said Pilaf. "I'm afraid we have a dilemma."

So she wasn’t there to watch. Of course. Her friends would be the ones doing the watching, which meant Bulma had to be strong for them, so they wouldn’t crack. She steeled herself and sneered. "You hit like a girl." This time she held her tongue when the slap came.

"Where's the ball?" demanded the ginger.

"Right here." She showed him her middle finger. The next slap hurt more than the others. The sound echoed inside her head and the room spun. The taste of blood filled her mouth. 

"Stop it!" burst out Goku.

"Your friend seems to like being subjected to humiliating acts," commented the Emperor. Bulma almost laughed. This was the weirdest man.

"Let her go!" raged Yamcha.

"WHERE'S THE DRAGON BALL?" roared Pilaf.

"Not here," said Lady Puar.

Pilaf's left eye twitched. "Shu, cut her hand off."

Bulma lifted her head, surprised. They had been through a lot but nothing seemed more real than this. Her eyes widened as she watched the ginger man draw a knife. It was very big which meant it would hurt like a bitch. Against her wishes, she winced. Amputation was a game changer.

If there was one thing Bulma didn't like was being scared. It took away all of her self control—her dignity. It made her feel like the biggest coward in the world, but Bulma tried to back away and cried, "No, no, no, no!"

Then the woman was holding her in place as the ginger man pulled her arm. She felt the coldness of the blade seconds before she screamed.  
She didn't hear when Goku shouted, "Here! Don't hurt her! It's here! The Dragon Ball!", but Pilaf sure did because he raised his hand and the knife left her skin. Her wrist was bleeding, but the cut was mostly superficial. She breathed relieved.

Next thing she knew, Bulma was thrown into Yamcha's arms. She saw Goku handing his Dragon Ball to the ginger man and then the wall close, sealing them again. Yamcha ripped a piece of his T-shirt and wrapped it around her wrist. For once in her life, Bulma sat on the corner of the room and kept her mouth shut.

"Why don't you try the Kamehameha wave?" Yamcha suggested to Goku.

"Man, you've really been following us!" Goku positioned himself. A blue ball of light hit the wall near Bulma but it only opened a small hole. "I guess I can't," said Goku sadly. “I’m not strong enough.”

"Plus, that's the wrong wall, you big oaf," pointed out Lady Puar. It was true. This wall opened to the outside. They could see the sun setting through it.

"They're outside," said Yamcha suddenly. "Puar, you should go out there! Turn into something small—a bird maybe! Take the Dragon Balls away from them!"

"Right," said Goku. "You too, Oolong!"

Oolong looked at Bulma. "Who knows if we'll live through this? How about a kiss for luck?"

"No."

"It was worth a try," he mumbled. Yamcha handed each one of them a gun and Oolong and Lady Puar turned into small birds and flew through the small hole.

Mai and Shu positioned the seven Dragon Balls on the ground, one right next to the other. The balls shone as if greeting each other. They stepped back as Pilaf stepped forward. He raised his hands in the air and chanted, "DRAGON GOD, COME FORTH AND GRANT MY WISH!"

Bulma's eyes widened. She got up and place her face next to Yamcha's, both of them squeezing trying to get a good look. A blinding light illuminated the world then everything went dark. They gasped as the Eternal Dragon appeared. The long serpentine body was enormous, Bulma was sure the entire world would see him. He had the horns of a stag, sharp teeth, green scaly skin, red eyes, four toes on each foot, long flowing whiskers, a long snout, crescent shaped nostrils, and lowing green hair on his cheeks.

He was beautiful, mystic, ancient.

"Can I see it too?" begged Goku tugging at Bulma's shirt. "Guys? Come on!" Bulma tried to make room for him.

"Reflect upon your desires, mortals," the dragon's voice boomed in the darkness he brought, "for I shall grant you any wish, but one only."

Yamcha slammed his fist against the wall. "I can't believe he's going to win!"

Bulma nodded. "After everything we've been through..."

"It's freaking HUGE!" boasted Goku. "A real Dragon God! Grandpa would've loved this!"

"Great Shenron," bellowed Pilaf, "I wish for—"

"THE PANTIES OF A HOT YOUNG GIRL!" Oolong's cry startled even the dragon. Then the sky shone once more and a pair of white cotton knickers fell out of thin air. Oolong grabbed and smelled them.

"Your wish was granted," said Shenron. Was that judgment in his voice? "Fare you well." He disappeared and the light of the setting sun returned to the Earth. The seven Dragon Balls lost their gleam and turned to stone. Then each of them flew upward and scattered through the world.

"NOOOOOOO!" raged Pilaf.  
***

Goku, Bulma, Yamcha, Oolong and Lady Puar were relocated to one of Pilaf's especial cells. The place was exactly what a dungeon should look like, deep, dirty, dark and smelly. The ceiling went high and was all made of glass so they could see the night sky perfectly.

They all sat on the ground and leaned on the walls, tired, hurt, scared and awfully depressed to even try to escape.

"What happened to the Dragon Balls?" asked Goku. He had the weirdest expression on his face, something Bulma could not quite place. Resentment? Betrayal? No, none of those things were like Goku.

"When a wish is granted, all the balls scatter across the world," she confessed. The guilt hit her like a wrecking ball. Bulma felt like her lugs would explode if she didn't let out what she was feeling. "I'm so sorry, Goku. I should've told you—I... You're my very best friend and... I'm so selfish. I'm sorry." The tears filled her eyes and Bulma cursed. She hated to cry.

"Can't I get it back?"  
"Not for a year. It supposedly takes a year for them to work again. Until that year passes, they're just useless balls of stone."

"HOW DARE YOU?" Pilaf's voice filled the room. "How dare you dampen my dreams of conquest just when they were about to boil?! Emperor Pilaf is a merciful lord, you should be thankful for that. You'll have the honor of dying very slowly. You may have noticed your roof is glass—the strongest glass there is in this planet. Be aware the midday sun here is the most brutal one there is. Soon your jail will turn into a veritable rice cooker! Unfortunately, I have Dragon Balls to find and won't be able to stay and watch you roasting like corn!" he laughed maniacally.

"This will ruin my complexion," cried Bulma.

"You're not gonna die quietly, are you?" complained Oolong.

Goku rested his head against the wall. "I'm too hungry for this."

"So this is how it ends?" asked Oolong.

Bulma grunted. "No! I refuse! I don't like dying!"

"Who does?"

Yamcha glanced at Lady Puar. "Are you okay?"

The old woman sat cross-legged, staring up at the sky. Her eyes sparkled. "Yes,” she whispered in a tone of voice he didn’t recognize. “Have you seen the moon, Yamcha?” That was the first time in a long time she hadn’t called him something offensive. 

"How can you care about the moon at a time like this?" Oolong sneered. "I'm gonna die surrounded by idiots!"

"It's full," said Lady Puar. "Not many are fortunate enough to see something so beautiful before they die."

"Hey," called Yamcha. "No one's going to die, alright? You hear me? I'm not gonna let any of you die!"

Bulma hugged her knees. "You're just saying that."

"Yes, he is," said Oolong.

Before Yamcha could reply, Goku said: "A horrible monster comes out when the moon is full.” The four of them stared at him.  
"Another tale, Goku?" said Bulma.

"No. It's true,” he said. “It killed my grandpa."

Yamcha frowned. "The legendary martial artist was smashed to death? Not likely."

"Half of our house, too," said Goku. "And the trees..." he knit his eyebrows as if struggling to remember.

"What kind of monster are we talking about here?" asked Oolong.

Goku shook his head. "I didn't see it. I was asleep."

"What?" Bulma looked at the others. Their faces was just as puzzled as she felt. "You slept through your house being brought down?"

Goku continued as if there was nothing wrong with that. "Grandpa called it Ozaru. He used to say to me—he said, ‘Never go out during the full moon, Goku. Don't even look at it. Promise me you'll never look at it!' Problem was, he never said what me looking could do. What?" he added when he saw his friends’ faces.

"Could it be?" ventured Yamcha.

Bulma licked her lips. "Goku... honey, the—the night your grandpa died... did you—did you, by any chance… looked at the full moon?"

The look in Goku's face turned her blood cold. "It was the first time I saw it," he admitted. "I know he told me not to, but I really had to go outside—you know, to pee—and... it was just so beautiful. I couldn't help it."

Yamcha gave Bulma a sideways glance. "What do you think?"

"Me?" she shrieked.

"I-I-I knew h-he w-wasn't just an ordinary k-k-kid," stuttered Oolong backing away from Goku.

"But it could be a coincidence, right?" said Bulma.

Goku watched them, annoyed. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Test him," hissed Oolong. "Show h-h-him the moon!"

Bulma hesitated. "But what if—by some tiny little chance—it's true...?"

"We can't let him look," decided Yamcha.

Bulma sat closer to Goku and took his hand. "Goku? Remember the promised you made your grandpa? You said you'd never look at the full moon." Goku nodded reluctantly. "I need you to promise me the same thing. Okay? Just, whatever you do, don't look that way." She pointed toward the full moon and Goku followed her hand with his eyes.

"Where—?"—everyone gasped—"Oops! I did it again!"

Bulma laughed nervously. "I knew it couldn't be true."

Then his body stiffened beside her. Goku's eyes, so usually kind, glazed over, frozen, catatonic. Yamcha grabbed Bulma's arm and pulled her backwards. "Goku?" she called gently.

"That's not funny!" cried Oolong.

Goku's limbs began to shake. There was a terrible snarling noise. Bulma, Yamcha, Oolong and Lady Puar pressed themselves against the opposite wall. Goku's body was lengthening. Brownish hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. He got so big he destroyed the dungeon—the walls and the unbreakable glass ceiling collapsed.

"YOU'VE SAVED US!" shouted Yamcha. "YOU CAN CHANGE BACK NOW!"

But there was no arguing with that beast. Bulma could see how irrational he was by the vagueness of his eyes. The giant ape roared, bumping his chest with his hands. He lunged forward on his two feet and destroyed the Emperor's entire castle.

"What does he think he's doing?" demanded Oolong.

"We have to go!" said Yamcha. But Ozaru saw them. Before they could move, Ozaru reached forward and grabbed Bulma.

"NO!" she shouted even though she knew it was meaningless. "LET GO, GOKU! QUIT PLAYING! IT'S NOT FUN ANYMORE!"

"LET HER GO!" yelled Yamcha.

Ozaru lifted Bulma to his face. "OH, NO," she said. "DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! YOU WILL NOT EAT ME! CLOSE YOUR BIG ASS MOUTH!"

There was a rumbling growl but for the briefest of moments Bulma saw the ape hesitate. It gave her hope.

"Remember his weakness," bellowed Yamcha. "The tail, Puar!"

Lady Puar shifted into a giant pair of scissors and cut Ozaru's tail off. Bulma felt the grip on her loosen and she free fell—right into Yamcha's arms. The great ape howled but his limbs were shaking again. Slowly, the fur started to disappear just like it had appeared, and Goku returned to his normal size. He lied naked on the ground completely oblivious to the massive destruction he had caused.

The rest of the night was a blur. The four of them sat and waited transfixed for Goku to come back to his sense. When morning came, Oolong finally broke the silence.

"What this dope put us through," he mumbled but there was an tender note in his voice Bulma hadn't heard before. Goku had gotten inside their skins. All of their skins.

"We made it though, didn't we?" said Yamcha and he was relieved.

“If being lost in the desert with the naked, unconscious body of a teenage boy is what you call making it, then yes,” said Lady Puar, who seemed to have returned to her normal self. 

Bulma took a deep breath and addressed the matter that had been bothering her most. "I think we shouldn't tell him. About Ozaru, about his grandpa, about any of this. He's hurting enough as it is without having to carry this around. And I don't know about you, but... I wouldn't be able to bring it up even if I wanted to."

The others nodded in response.

"But who is he?" said Oolong in awe. "Or... what is he?"

"Doesn't matter," said Yamcha. "He no longer has a tail. He'll never be dangerous like that again."

Goku moaned and they flinched. He yawned and rubbed his eyes like he did every morning, then got to his feet. Bulma turned her eyes away. Lady Puar didn’t. "What happened?" asked Goku. He looked down. "Why am I naked?"

"Oolong," said Bulma, "give him your pants."

"No! I earned them!"

"Your pants, not your panties!"

Oolong took off his pants revealing light blue underwear. Goku put the pants on—they were a little baggy and they showed off his shins, but they served the purpose. Then suddenly Goku fell on his butt. 

Lady Puar smiled. "What was that, bonehead?"

"Lost balance..." muttered Goku frowning. "I don't know."

"The tail had a purpose after all," grinned Yamcha.

Goku's eyes widened in terror. He got up and patted his bottom. "My tail?! My—Where did it go? Oh, no! It's gone! This can't be happening! Yesterday it was here, but now—" He sighed. "Oh, well. Has anyone seen my Nyoibo?"

Oolong beamed at him. "He got over that easily."

"Must be buried in the rubble of the palace," said Bulma. Goku nodded and went out looking for it. He didn’t ask any questions about the castle situation. He seemed to be preoccupied with other worries. 

"What are we going to do now?" Oolong asked the others. 

"We go home," Bulma said simply. "All of us, I mean. I, uh—and lemme be clear, I don't do this often, but... Wouldn't it be fun if you'd all come back with me to—to my house? I mean... Yamcha?" she glanced at him hopeful. "Will you?"

With two resolute steps he was on her. His lips pressed her and she felt her heart doing flips inside her chest. Yamcha had no idea where he had gotten the courage to do this, but he knew he couldn't spend another minute without kissing her.

Goku came rushing back with his baton on hand. "I found it," he announced. "I—what is this?" he smiled watching the two of them kiss. Goku guessed he wasn't the most perceptive person around since he had not expected this to happen.

"Disgusting," said Oolong bitterly. "That's what it is."

“I don’t like it, but I agree with you there,” said Lady Puar. 

Bulma and Yamcha parted, both of them red on the face. She cleared her throat. "Okay, uh, now that that is that… Uh… Goku? You must definitely come home with us."

Goku took her hand. "I'm gonna go to the turtle guy. So I can train," he explained.

Bulma looked disappointed, but she smiled. "Of course you are. Lady Puar?"  
“I go wherever that nincompoop goes,” she gestured to Yamcha. “Don’t ask why.”

Bulma nodded. “Aright. And Oolong?”

Oolong put his godly panties on his head. "Do you have many girlfriends? Girls like you, that is?"

"Haven't you learned by now?" she leered. "There's nobody like me."

"Yeah," said Oolong. "Let's hope not. One's already too much." He crossed his arms. "Okay. I'll go."

"And next year, we go hunting those Dragon Balls again, right?" asked Goku happily.

Yamcha and Bulma exchanged a look. "I think… we’ve kind of got our wish," he said.

Goku's shoulders slumped. "Oh. I can't find the Sushinchu without you, Bulma," he said helplessly.

Bulma stepped toward him and touched his face. It was unbelievable but she felt like she'd know him her whole life. They were family now and the love she bore him was unfathomable. "Yes, you can," she said. Bulma reached into her pocket belt and brought out her Dragon Radar. "Here. One year from now, press this and you'll get a signal."

Goku hugged her so tightly her ribs made a cracking sound. "Thank you."

"No, Goku. Thank you."

Goku shook hands with the others. "Someday, you'll be as great as your grandpa," said Yamcha. "I can see it. One day we'll hear legends and tales about you."

Yeah, Goku was never comfortable with goodbyes. But this wasn't forever, he felt. He glanced at the cynical, cowardly, fat man that had saved them all by wishing for women's underwear. The old, coarse, tiny lady who understood dying wasn't so bad if you were surrounded by the right people. The bandit of the desert, who could throw mean punches and seemed to know everything about his grandpa. And, lastly, to the temperamental blonde girl, who had showed him a world he hadn't dared dream of, and who had taught him that the people in it were what made living worth their while.

Goku called Kinto'un and climbed on it. He headed for the horizon, his heart beating fast in his chest. He was sure where he was going, though not so sure as how to get there. But he feared not, he feared nothing. That was how his grandpa had taught him to be.

Of a good beginning cometh a good end, Grandpa Gohan would often say. Thinking about his words, Goku felt something warm around him, like a good old embrace he hadn't quite let go of yet. He thought of Chichi and all the other good things he had come to know. He looked down while it was still time and saw the others waving at him. He waved back.

No, this wasn't goodbye. He was sure he would see them again. His companions, his friends, his family.

The world was but a little place, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Act I


	11. Chapter Ten—The Double Life of Launch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act II—Bad Moon Rising

She smiled, running her fingers through her freshly washed blonde hair, and stretching her freshly shaven legs out across the silk sheets. It had been a while since she'd stayed in a hotel this nice, a very long while, and she was enjoying every minute of it. It wouldn't be long before the cops were at the door looking for her.

She turned on the television and sat up, holding her knees. The news reporter was talking about a robbery that had gone down last night. She smirked as she listened to the broadcast.

"The Brown Country Bella struck a bank last night, completely cleaning it out of its entire vault. This is footage of the security cameras." She paused for a moment as a video of her blowing a kiss to the camera played on the screen. "If anyone has any information on her whereabouts they are strongly urged to contact the local authorities. The mayor of Brown Country is offering a substantial reward to anyone who can assist in the Bella's arrest."

She smirked and threw the blankets back climbing out of the bed. She enjoyed causing trouble. She'd been a hell raiser since the day she was born. But the smile vanished from her face when the loud pounding of the police sounded on the door.

"This is Brown Country P.D. You have thirty seconds to surrender."

She rolled her eyes. She started to pack up everything and quickly put her clothes on. There was only one way she was getting out of the room without the cops catching her and she didn't feel like being on the sixteenth floor in nothing but her underwear.

She grabbed her backpack full of money and her gun, and walked to the window that faced the city streets. She climbed out of the window and eased her way across the ledge and away from the room. There was a fire escape just around the corner she could climb down and run the two blocks to the alley where she'd parked her scooter.

When she reached the side of the building she carefully shimmied her body around the corner, turning so she was now facing the wall. She carefully stepped off the ledge and jumped the two feet to the fire escape. Then climbed down. She jumped the small gap between the end of the ladder and the ground and tore off running down the alley.

She only had two blocks to go and from the sounds of nothing behind her, the cops didn't even know she'd left the room yet. She started the scooter and pulled out into normal traffic. She laughed breathlessly, the wind in her hair. This was the good life.

That was the last thing that crossed her mind before she sneezed.  
***

Roshi's island was just as Goku remembered. The pink shack was right at the center, the Kame House sign shining in the sunlight. Goku climbed out of Kinto'un and ran to the front door. He knocked. Nobody answered. He knocked again before simply walking in without leave. 

The hall was nothing fancy. Goku could hear some noise coming from the living room. He headed there. The room was well decorated. There was a square collection of sofas and tables off to the right and a big television set near the wall. Master Roshi was kneeling on the ground, his nose almost touching the TV screen.

"Okay, now spread those legs," the woman in the television was saying. She was working out, wearing tight clothes. Roshi followed her movements, fascinated, drool dripping from his mouth. 

"1... 2... yes... and 1... and 2..." he repeated after her.

"Hey, master," called Goku.

"That's it... an' 1, an' 2... beautiful..."

Goku moved uncomfortably. "I said hey, master!" he repeated a little louder. Master Roshi kept his focus on the TV. "HEEEEERMIT!"

The shout echoed around the room, but Roshi didn't even flinch. He slowly tore his eyes from the screen, as if the movement caused him physical pain, and glanced at Goku. He grimaced. "Eesh, it's only you, lad. No need for shouting, I'm not deaf, you know."

Goku crossed his arms. "I came here like you said I should. So you can train me."

Roshi's eyes went back to the TV. "Whatever. Give me a minute."

"Well, I'm starving."

Roshi pointed left. "The kitchen is through there. Help yourself."

Joyfully, Goku headed the way Roshi had gestured. Help yourself, he had said. Goku had every intention of doing just that.  
***

An hour later, Roshi's show came to an end and he remembered he had a guest. So he headed to the kitchen. It was mayhem. The fridge's door was open and there was nothing left inside. The cabinets were also empty. Goku sat at the dinner table surrounded by dirty plates, smashed food packaging and wafer bran.

"You ate everything? Even the butter?" exclaimed Roshi. "A whole week's supply of food... What did you come here for, kid?"

Goku cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand. "To train," he muttered trying to suppress a burp.

Roshi examined Goku from top to bottom. "My training is awfully tough, lad."

Goku considered that. "'Good pupils are to be brought up by strict teachers.'"

Roshi seemed surprised. "What?"

"Just something my grandpa used to say," shrugged Goku. "I just want to make him proud."

Roshi couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I understand. And I was the one who taught Son Gohan that, you know. Alright, kid. But hear me out, a training like mine does not come free."

Goku frowned. "I don't have any money."

"Neither do I, what's your point?” Roshi shook his head. “No. Money doesn't interest those who have the power of mind and body. I require something else."

"Name it," said Goku quickly. "I'll do anything."

Roshi smiled. "Heroes... Always ready to make hasty promises.” Then he turned serious. “What I want from you, kid, is for you to bring me a... hottie."

"A 'potty’?"

"A hottie! A pretty hot girl. Woman, actually... let's not do anything illegal, shall we? Heh heh.” When Goku didn’t join his laughter, Roshi cleared his throat. “Anyhow, bring me a girl and you'll get all the training you can take."

Goku straightened up. "I just have to bring you a girl? That's easy."

"You understand what I'm asking here?" said Roshi carefully.

"Yeah, like… Someone like... like Bulma?"

"Yes! Someone precisely like your Bulma!" he said happily. "But, kid, she needs to want to come with you, you hear me? We can't take anyone against their will. A gentleman never imposes a lady anything. Remember that. Okay? Got it? Then off you go!"

Roshi led Goku outside. Goku called Kinto'un. Roshi frowned. "Didn't you use to have a tail?"

"Yeah…” Goku shrugged. “But I don't know where it went."

Roshi watched as Goku flew away, shaking his head. "What a freak," he muttered.   
***

In western Brown Country the saloons were refined. The bartender prided himself on his appearance and his drink pouring abilities. Launch crossed the batwing doors and the cowboys stopped their game of pool to glance at her. She noticed each one of them had their hands ready at their guns. She wasn't surprised. With Brown Country Bella on the loose everyone was rather jumpy.

When they realized she meant them no harm, they returned their attention to the game. The saloon was brightly illuminated and the air inside was cooler. Launch was thankful for that. The heat had been killing her, why, with her having to drag that awfully heavy backpack of hers, and she was dying of thirst.

"What a terrible heat," she told the bartender. He was a short rounded man with no hair at the top of his head. When he smiled, she saw he lacked a few of his teeth.

A handsome man stood by her side and eyed her with interest. "I'll pay for whatever the lady wants," he said. The bartender nodded.

"You're so very kind," Launch thanked him. "I'd like an orange juice, sir." She heard some laughing behind her, but she didn't mind. Laughing was a good thing, right? It meant people were happy. And she liked making people happy.

 

"There you go, sweetheart." The bartender placed the glass in front of her and she sipped it gladly. The man had even added one of those cute tiny umbrellas just to please her. She smiled and drank some more. The umbrella rubbed her nose and it started to itch. She grimaced trying to hold it in, but it was no good.

She sneezed.

"Bless you," said the handsome man. He ventured another glance to the pretty girl beside him and froze. The Brown Country Bella pointed a gun at his face. The atmosphere in the room changed. Nobody dared move.

Then she started shooting. They never stood a chance.

After the massacre, the Bella finished her juice and went outside. She could hear the sirens already. She climbed her scooter and fled as the police started their chase. They asked her to pull over. They asked her extremely nicely. She hated nice.

She turned around and shot a few of them down like dogs. Then she laughed maniacally. The rush was what she lived for. Her racing heart, the wind in her blonde hair. Hair that stuck in her nostrils and made her sneeze.

Launch was so startled she crashed the scooter and went rolling across the asphalt. Her knees and elbows were bleeding. What had just happened? She was just having juice and then—

The policemen surrounded her, their guns at the ready.

"Don’t move!" one of them warned. "Brown Country Bella, you are under arrest!"

She raised her hands in surrender. "I—I don't know what you're talking about, sir.” That wasn’t entirely true. Launch had lived long enough with her strange condition that she had some idea what happened whenever she sneezed. But she—her—right now—she wasn’t the Bella. She was Launch. And she hadn’t done anything wrong. “Please... Why are you doing this to me?" Fear started creeping inside of her and they approached. 

"Don't try anything funny!" said the other policeman.

"But I—I didn't do anything," she said with little certainty. “It wasn’t me… I… Please…” The policeman took another step toward her and Launch screamed. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

She didn't really think anyone would come to her rescue. But some random boy fell from the sky and landed protectively in front of her. He wasn't very big, but he had a nice presence about him. With jet black hair that he seemed not to care for, since it spiked and tangled as if he had never been introduced to a hairbrush.

"Leave her alone," he told the police officers.

The guns moved from her to him. "Who are you?" one of the policemen demanded. "What do you want?"

"You may be a minor, but if you interfere we'll arrest you, too!" the other said.

The boy moved faster than she could've said 'you're my hero.' He knocked the gun out of the first policeman's hand and punched him so hard in the face the man fell backwards and didn't move again. The other tried to shoot him, but the boy—somehow—dodged his bullets. Then he knocked him out as well.

"Weaklings," he muttered. He glanced at her with kind blue eyes. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Thank you so much! You saved me from—from—How can I ever repay you?"

A faint smile crossed his face. "I think I know something you could do..."  
***

Goku was glad the girl could ride Kinto'un. That made the matters easier. She didn't ask him many questions on the way—she seemed relieved to be leaving Brown Country behind. Goku wondered if master Roshi would like her. She looked quite nice, he thought. Her skin was peachy, her eyes greenish and her hair dark, long and wavy. 

"What a beautiful house!" she exclaimed when they arrived at Roshi's island.

"I'm still getting used to the pink," he told her. "Oi! Master Roshi? Weird, he's not answering," he said, trying to make Roshi sound normal, although truth was the old man never answered anyone. 

"He's probably in the lavatory," she guessed.

"The what?" Goku had never heard that word before. “Lava—?”

She hesitated, unsure of what he was asking. She tried again. "The—the toilet?"

Goku wasn't familiar with that one either. He shook his head.

"Uh…” She seemed to think about it and then started throwing words around. “The Loo? Washroom? Men's room? Bathroom?"  
"Ah!" he said recognizing the last one. "What didn't you just say that?"

She looked around, confused. "What is it you said you needed me here for?"

Goku shrugged. "Master Roshi wants a girl. Woman," he corrected.

She nodded. "Well, I'm being chased. So I'd better stay someplace isolated like this island."

"Why are you being chased?" 

She ran her fingers through her dark hair. "I don't know," she confessed. "I mean I... I suspect. But I, uh, I’m not really sure.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice, like she was telling a secret. “See, I think there's something wrong with me. I have some blackouts. And sometimes… sometimes I forget things I’ve done."

He found that intriguing. "Like what?"

She shook her head distressed. "I don't know... I can't remember anything! Oh, maybe I shouldn't stay here. I'm—I'm very dangerous, I think."

"You don't look very dangerous to me," he told her, inspecting her skinny arms and legs.

She was about to argue when Roshi stepped out of the house. He saw them at the porch and smiled widely. "You did good, Goku," he approved.

"So she is pretty," said Goku. "I was afraid she wasn't."

"Oh, she is very pretty."

The girl reached out her hand. "I'm Launch," she said. "Your grandson saved me."

Roshi kissed her hand. There was a lot of tongue involved. "Did he? But he's not my grandson. I'm not that old, mind you. Heh heh... I'm Muten Roshi, my dear. And that is Son Goku. I'm teaching him the martial arts."

Launch beamed at Goku. "That's why he's so strong!"

"Precisely!" said Roshi. "I taught him everything he knows. The boy's very thankful to me—"

Goku butt in. "We haven't even started training yet."

"And you're already so skilled!" laughed Roshi. "That's how incredible I am! Anyhoo, darling Launch, I'd love for you to bathe with me. Stay! I said stay. I'd love for you to stay with me, yes."

"Oh, if it's no trouble..."

"None at all! You can always, always—"

Launch sneezed and suddenly she wasn't Launch anymore. She wore the same clothes, but she was changed. Her hair turned a bright yellow color and her eyes grew cold. Her face seemed leaner, meaner, and her stance was more confident. Her eyes went from Roshi to Goku and she quickly drew a gun from her shorts. "Who are you? Where am I?"

Roshi and Goku exchanged a look. They were both too stunned to react right away. 

"Did you—?" Roshi started. 

"No,” said Goku. 

Roshi cleared his throat. "Are you—Are you still Launch?"

"What do you mean?" The woman growled. "You don’t know who I am?” She sneered. “I'm the one and only—Brown Country Bella! Everybody knows me!"

"Well, you're not in Brown Country anymore," said Roshi carefully. “So unless you wanna be Kami Island Bella—”

"I brought you here," Goku interrupted. "So Roshi can have you. You said you didn't mind."

A vein twitched on her forehead. "So he can have me?" she said, menacingly. “Like I’m a goat?”

"That’s not what he meant!" said Roshi, but it was too late. She started shooting her gun, crazed, everywhere, anywhere. She went completely berserk. Goku knocked the gun off her hand like he had done with the police officer and pushed her down to the ground. She landed on her face, on the sand, and sneezed again. 

Just like that Launch had returned. She struggled to her feet, rubbing her head. "Oww," she cried. "What—What happened?"

Goku and Roshi stared at each other wondering who'd have the honor of explaining things to her.


	12. Chapter Eleven—The Turtle Hermit’s Way

Roshi pressed a button under the banister of his porch, turning his house into a hoi-poi capsule that he promptly picked up and safely slipped into his pocket. He asked Goku to take a step back and then threw a different capsule on the floor, which shifted into a small motor boat.

Goku watched all that with curiosity. "What are you doing?"

"We're moving," Roshi explained. "Temporarily, of course. There's a bigger island South from here that'll be perfect for your training." He helped Launch onto the boat and then followed her on. Goku climbed last. "We'd appreciate if you don't sneeze, my dear,” he told her. 

Launch cheeks turned red. She had taken the news about her split personality quite charmingly—admittedly, she had had some idea of what happened to her everytime she sneezed, although she didn’t know how far it went—but Goku could see she felt bad about everything the Bella had done. More than once he tried to imagine how dreadful it would be not being able to control oneself, to have to share your body with someone you weren’t familiar with, someone you might not even like.

"Got it," she said, breathing in the clear air to assure them her nose was clean.

Their journey lasted a few hours which Goku considered a waste. Kinto'un would've covered that distance in minutes. But when he pointed that out, Roshi reprimanded him. "This isn’t a race, Goku," he said. "It isn’t about how fast you get where you want to go. Remember that."

This other island was indeed bigger and colder, surrounded by large mountains that kept the sun at bay. Each one of them had their own shape—Goku even recognized a few—and Roshi pointed out one by one saying—Bell Mountain, Drum Mountain, Sword Mountain, Stamp Mountain and Flag Mountain.

But that was East. The whole West side of the island was covered with small houses and buildings with different shapes and sizes. "People live here?" Goku wondered out loud. 

The master said yes. "This is a three hundred population island." He turned the boat back into a hoi-poi capsule as soon as they were safely on the shore, and proceeded to turned his shack back into a shack. "Launch, dear, you can go do whatever you wish. Goku and I have business to attend to."

Launch looked excited. "I'd like to cook for you," she said. "I can make the—AHHH—AHHH—"

"She'll sneeze!" Roshi shouted, alarmed. 

But Launch only yawned. "—uh, the supper," she finished with an apologetic smile. "Anyhow, good luck, boys!" She waved and headed toward the Kame House.  
"Let's begin then," said Roshi. "For starters, I suppose we better get to know each other a little better so we’ll know how much you can take and how far we can push you. See, from this tree,” he gestured to a palm tree to his left, “up to that rock,” he gestured to a boulder Goku could only just detect up ahead of them, “is exactly... um, a hundred meters, I would say. Let's see how fast you can run that distance. Mind you, being fast doesn’t make you a great martial artist. Remember what I told you on the boat? Good. However, it does show how durable your legs and hips are. You understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

Goku thought about it. "Yes... master?"

"Very good, Goku. From now on, that is all you are allowed to call me. You must remember your manners." Roshi went to stand beside the boulder and took a chronometer out of his pocket. "Ready?" he shouted from afar. 

"Yes, master," Goku shouted back.

"Go!" 

Goku went. 

Roshi studied the chronometer. "Mm... 8.5 seconds."

"Is that good?" Goku panted.

"Very good indeed," praised his master. "You are quite impressive, Goku. But you're still on human level. A true martial artist must overcome this wall, which is, in fact, the hardest part. But we'll get there soon enough. Now, check my time." He handed Goku the chronometer and ran from the boulder to the tree, faster than Goku wouldn’t thought possible. "How did I do?" he asked.

"5.6 seconds!"

"Phew, I'm a little rusty,” Roshi complained. “Anyways, with your youth and the proper training I’ll provide you, you'll break my record in no time. Now go get us a beer."

"What's that?"

Roshi stated at him for a moment, probably wondering if he meant that. "Hmm, you also need knowledge. That's one area we'll have to do some extra training for you. I'd better rush some things." He rubbed his hands together. "Alright. Pay attention. There are four stages of training. Today we began the first one—the Sotapanna. This is also the hardest one, Goku, and if you fail there'll be no point in trying to teach you any further."

"I'm ready, master."

Roshi looked up, the sun was already low in the sky. Roshi bent over and picked a small rock from the ground. With a permanent black marker, he drew his symbol on the oval stone and showed it to Goku. "Look closely," he said. Goku's eyes followed the lines of the drawing carefully. Then Roshi threw the rock into the woods, as far as he could, as far as it went. "I want you to find that rock and bring it back to me, Goku."

Goku stared at the trees. "That's all?"

"Looking for something seems easy, doesn't it?" his master grinned. "But finding something unique in such a large place will require a lot of mental capacity, persistence and patience. You must bring it back to me before dinner, or you won't have any."

"What?!"

"And, Goku, remember... It isn’t—"

"—how fast you get where you want to go,” Goku finished for him, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice. “Yeah, I got it, master."

Goku crossed the mountains by himself and entered the woods. It was darker and colder in here. The trees made for the perfect roof and Goku couldn't even see the sky anymore. He ventured further, his eyes darting from one side to the other, trying to look everywhere at once, but he saw not a glimpse of the oval stone.

He reached a cliff and looked down. The forest continued down there. Goku took a deep breath and jumped. He outstretched his arms and felt the wind against him, giving him support. He was close to the ground when he spotted a nice strong branch of a tree. He held on to it, but the branch wasn't nearly as strong as he had anticipated and it broke with his weight. Goku fell on his butt with a sad thud. 

Brush it off, he told himself. He continued his search. He had to knock out a lion who had tried to eat him. Then he found a triceratops lying on the ground. The dinosaur was quiet but breathing heavily. Goku approached slowly. Her eyes were open—large, hazel eyes. She didn't look frightened, only pained and tired. Dying. Then Goku saw why. Near her stomach there was a giant teeth piercing the dinosaur's hard skin. A blotch of blood surrounded the wound. Goku wondered what sort of animal could've done that.

Gracefully, Goku knelt beside the triceratops and placed his hand on her head. The animal moaned. Goku gave her as much comforting as he could.

"Kamisama, she comes before you in prayer and in faith—believing,” the words poured from him almost automatically. He’d heard his grandpa say those words so many times—every night, even, before bed, he’d pray for Goku, and sometimes he prayed for others, too. “Your word says that you desire all beings to be saved and come into the knowledge of truth. Ever, night and day, be at her side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Watch over her."

When the triceratops stopped breathing, Goku closed her eyes. Then he stood. It was already very late. He shouldn’t linger. He shouldn't think about his grandpa. That would only make him sad. Goku looked around and his eyes widened when he saw the stone. He picked it up and turned it around—there was no drawing. But it looked just like the other.

A plan formed in his mind. Goku rushed back to the Kame House. He could hear Roshi and Launch in the kitchen. Goku searched several drawers until he found a permanent black marker. He tried his best to copy Roshi's symbol. The result was very good, he dared to think.

Goku marched into the kitchen grinning. "I've finally found it!" he panted. Roshi seemed surprised. Launch smiled.

"That was good," the master admitted. Goku handed him the rock. Roshi inspected and smiled as well. Then he threw the rock at Goku's head.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Goku, recoiling. 

"Did you think you could trick me?” Roshi boomed. “Go and find the real one, you dimwit!"

If Goku still had his tail, it would’ve been between his legs. He turned around, ashamed of himself, and headed back into the forest knowing it was pointless. The night was pitch black now. He wouldn't be able to find his way back much less a small oval stone.  
***

The sun was rising when Goku officially gave up the chase. He dragged his feet back to the pink shack just to find that Roshi had locked both the windows and doors so that he wouldn’t be able to come inside without breaking something. With a heavy sigh, Goku let himself fall on the white porch and slept right there. 

What felt like two minutes later, Roshi poked him with his staff. Goku's eyes hurt as he opened them. "Did you find the stone?" the master asked his pupil. Goku shook his head, too tired to speak. "Shame. Well, are you ready for today's training?"

Goku glanced at him like he was crazy. "Master, I—"

"Great!" said Roshi. "Before we start the way of the turtle, there are a few things that need to be said. Martial arts shall not be used to oppress others or impress girls. Martial arts are practiced to cleanse your body, to strengthen your mind and your soul. But you can also use the martial arts to protect yourself and defend others from evil. Do you understand what I am saying, Goku?"

Goku's mind was spinning, but he was trying to stay focused on the master's words. Grandpa Gohan used to say things like this often. There was a saying he'd always repeat whenever Goku asked him why he fought: a bird sings because it has a song. Goku thought he understood what that meant.

"Yes, master," he answered. "You're saying we learn how to fight so that we don't have to."

Roshi seemed incredibly pleased. "Precisely, my lad. Precisely. Now, get off your ass." Goku struggled to his feet. Roshi showed him how to do some dynamic stretches. "We use controlled leg movements to improve range of motion," he explained, "loosen up muscles and increase heart race, body temperature, and blood flow to help you run more efficiently."

"We're going for a run?" Goku said, horrified.

"Oh, you have no idea," chuckled Roshi. "But we'll start with a morning walk. It's the ideal low-intensity activity to ease your body out of sitting mode and into workout mode. I believe that's exactly what you need right now, judging by the way you look, kid. The motions of walking takes the muscles, tendons, and joints through a range of motion that's similar to what it will go through in running. Not only will it bring up the temperature of the muscles and the core, but it'll enhance the blood flow and send your brain the message that it's time to get a move on!"

The walk lasted about an hour. The sun was still rising when they reached the edge of the town. Roshi led Goku through a bunch of farms until he found the one he was looking for. A simple elderly man answered the door bell.

"Hello," said Roshi. "I called yesterday, good sir. I'm Muten Roshi."

The old man seemed happy. "Oh, yes, sir. It was very nice of you." He reached into a pocket of his overwalls and handed Roshi a small black book. "These are the addresses. You just have to follow the path."

Roshi bowed to him. "Thank you, sir. Here, Goku." He pointed to a truck to their right. "You'll take those boxes and you'll deliver 'em."

"He'll do the entire route on foot?" exclaimed the old man. "This has to be delivered before eleven o'clock, sir!"

"And so it shall be, my friend," promised Roshi. "Come on, Goku. The first house is a mile and a half away."

"Excuse me, master," interjected Goku, already out of breath. "What does delivering milk have to do with martial arts?"

Roshi thought about it. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe it has to do with having the discipline of doing what you're told. No questions asked."

Goku had no words for the despair he felt. He was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. His muscles were screaming, his legs protesting with every step he took. Still, he grabbed the first box and did as his master ordered him.

When there was only one box left, Goku was about to pass out from exhaustion. Roshi made him drink a lot of water, but that didn't help much. The last deliver was to be made to a man who lived on the top of Bell Mountain.

Goku said a silent prayer and started climbing the stairs. But he was halfway through when he felt his legs give in from under him. Goku fell backwards and almost broke the milk bottles. He moaned and tried to get to a sitting, more dignified, position.

Master Roshi watched him expressionless. "Oh, my. Looks like we've reached a limit."

Goku breathed heavily. "I can't," he admitted. "I'm sorry, master. I just can't take another step."

"There's a man up there," said Roshi. "A man that'll be without his milk if you don't stand up."

"Can I—Maybe I could finish it with Kinto'un?"

Roshi raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you could,” he half-shrugged. “But then, Goku, what sort of challenge would that be?"

Goku shook his head, defeated. "None."

"There are many ways to the top of the mountain. Yet, once you get there, the view is the same. Do you know what that means?"

Goku tried to think about it. "It means I get to choose which way I wanna go and what I'll learn from that."

"Exactly,” said Roshi. “But before you choose, a few words of advice. Gohan and Gyumaoh used to climb this mountain every day they spent under my tutelage. And not once, Goku, did they ever complained or let their work unfinished."

Goku felt ashamed again. His grandpa had done that whilst Goku was on the ground counting his blessings. This was not the way to make him proud. This was not what he had taught Goku. Failure is not falling down but refusing to get up, he heard his grandpa's voice in his head. Resigned, Goku grabbed the last box of milk bottles and stood up. He firmed his shaking legs on the ground.

"I'll meet you at the top, master," he said, before resuming his climbing.

The man on the top of the Bell Mountain was short and round and bald. He had a very amusing mustache and he sat on a rock smoking a pipe. He greeted Goku with a polite wave of his pale hand.

"Good morning, sir."

Roshi appeared behind Goku. "Long time, no see, eh?"

The old man smiled. "How are you, Kamesennin? You seem very healthy, as usual. Is that your new disciple? Didn't know you were training new ones."

"I'm not," said Roshi. "This is an extraordinary exception. Gohan's grandson, would you believe it?"

The old man's face brightened. "Ahhh... Old Gohan was a good lad, wasn't he? Hope your boy is ready by the next Budokai. Just like Gohan was, remember?"

"Like it was yesterday," said Roshi. "And he will be ready."

"What's a Budokai?" asked Goku.

Roshi studied him slowly before answering. "A martial arts tournament," he said, "where only the very best compete."

"Awesome."

The old man nodded. "It originated in a festival held a long time ago at the temple which now serves as the tournament grounds. It occurs every three years. Besides the title of World Martial Arts Champion, the winner of the Budokai receives the considerable amount of 500,000 Zeni as a prize."

"I never quite understood why the prize was money," Roshi pondered. "A real martial artist doesn't concern himself with something so... mundane."

"I often found," replied the old man, "that the one who usually wins the Budokai, is the one who wants the money the least. Have you not?"

Roshi smiled. "Amen."

"So you'll let me compete?" Goku asked his master.

"Perhaps," was the answer. 

"Can I rest now?"

Roshi stared at Goku with amusement. "Listen, boy. This milk delivering will go on for the next eight months, so you best get used to it."

"Alright," Goku said, sadly. “I will.” 

"And this was the morning training,” said Roshi. “Now we prepare for the afternoon."

"Wait—WHAT?!"


	13. Chapter Twelve—The Four Stages of Attainment

The only good part of living with the master was that, upon seeing Goku's struggles, Roshi asked Launch to prepare him a great buffet. The rest was torture.

That afternoon, Roshi took Goku to an open green field that belonged to an old farmer. There was nothing but grass for miles and miles around. It was very beautiful there, but Goku prepared himself for the worst. Unlike him, the farmer seemed very happy which obviously meant Goku wouldn’t be enjoying that at all. 

"You're going to work this soil," Roshi told Goku.

"Farming?" Goku found that odd, but assumed there was a point to it, like the milk delivering thing.

The farmer thanked them one more time and handed Goku a hand tiller. "No, no," said Roshi, taking the tiller from Goku and returning it to the farmer. "No tools, my good sir. He has to work with his hands to build up his strength and resilience."

Goku stared at his own hands. His palms seemed paler just at the thought. The farmer agreed reluctantly and went away.

"When ploughing is done correctly," said Roshi, "the field is maintained level and the whole surface is cultivated. A poor ploughing pattern however will give rise to an uneven surface. So clear away the surface trash, fill in any deep holes and remove unnecessary obstacles. The direction of ploughing should follow the longest side of the field. Conventional ploughing is carried out in working strips with a width of up to 25 meters. You know, Shennong, the Emperor of the Five Grains, invented the plow. Do him proud."

Roshi followed the farmer into the house and Goku was left alone with the green field. He started digging.

When Roshi returned the field looked perfect. "Nice, Goku," he praised. "Shujun would be pleased."

"Shujun? I thought it was Shennong."

"So you were listening," the master chuckled. "Shujun was the god of farming. Now come with me." Roshi led Goku to a river. "Stick your hands in, lad."

Goku did as he was told. His hands ached like you wouldn't believe. His palms were cut, some of his fingernails had fallen off and his finger were stiff.

"We can rest here for a while," said Roshi. "Then you swim."

Goku looked up. "Swim?" He liked to swim. It had been one of the first things Grandpa Gohan had taught him. The water always reinvigorated Goku. More than once, he wondered if that had anything to do with his parents.

A wave of grief hit Goku like a wrecking ball. Suddenly his hands didn't hurt anymore. He let himself fall backwards and stared at the sky. He was vaguely aware of Roshi's eyes on him. "Master? You once said Grandpa mentioned me to you. Did he say anything else? About who I am, I mean."

Goku waited for what felt like a hundred years. "He said he found you,” Roshi said. “Isn't that what he told you?"

Goku nodded. "Yes. But... where do I come from? Why wasn't I wanted?" he tried to disguise the hurt in his voice. He knew martial artist probably didn't cry about their parents to their masters. But Goku couldn't help it.

Roshi sat down by the river and lighted a pipe. "Tell me, Goku. Do you know of the Legend of the White Snake?" Goku nodded. It had been one of Grandpa Gohan's favorites. "Then tell it to me."

Goku swallowed trying to see what one thing had to do with the other. "Uh, two immortals fell in love," he remembered. "They were banished from heaven because their love was forbidden. They were reincarnated as a human male and a female snake. The lady snake loved the human man so very much that over the years she learned how to transform herself into a beautiful young woman and went out to find him."

Roshi seemed amused. "Yes, Gohan has always favored this version of the story."

"What do you mean?"

Roshi exhaled some smoke out of his nose. "When I was a young lad, the tale was quite different. It wasn't a story about a love forbidden by the laws of nature. It was the tale of how a young man was seduced by an evil demoness. Nobody knows when the story first came to be or when it was changed. But there are important questions hidden in this tale. Why was she so powerful and yet couldn't control her own emotions? Her animal passion consumed her and stopped her from being normal—which she so craved. Was love the source of her strength or her weakness?"

"I don't understand what you're saying, master."

"I guess I'm saying it doesn't matter,” said Roshi. “Either way. What made her who she is, what changed her—doesn’t matter. None of that is why her story is still known, still told. Am I right to assume your grandpa has told you a lot of stories?" Goku nodded again. "Has he ever told you why they're important? Why I've told him so many of them myself?"

Goku recalled as if it were yesterday. He recited like Gohan had told him, word by word. "Grandpa said these stories answer timeless questions and serve as compass to each generation. He said they are cultural collective wisdom that illustrates the universality of good and evil, justice and injustice, life and death, across culture and time, and act as both warning and promise."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," said Roshi kindly. "Think with me, Goku. Stories encapsulate the legacies of cultural heroes and demons as well as enduring social and moral teachings of their time. They explain the world and the human experience. They provide us with subtle suggestions on how to cope in difficult time, and in their symbolism we find encouragement and hope, examples of how to persevere and overcome, and guidance through the consequences of our choices. It is a very powerful thing, a simple tale."

That reminded Goku of something else his grandpa had told him. Everything is a parable, Goku, a lesson, to teach courage and perspective, to give comfort and hope.

"Now I ask you, does their unknowable origin diminish their value or their cultural importance?" said Roshi.

Goku thought about that. Roshi's words rang in his head—What made her who she is, what changed her. None of that is why her story is still known, still told. "No," he said softly.  
"Right you are, Goku. Their lineage and legacy through thousands of years and cultures testify to their resilience and ability to tell us more about our world and ourselves. The unidentifiable origin and malleability are the very qualities that have helped the story survive over centuries."

"What does that have to do with me, though?"

"I think that you are extraordinary, Goku," said Roshi and there was an incredible amount of fondness in his voice that made Goku's eyes sting. "One day they'll tell stories about you. And no one will care where you came from or why your parents gave you up. They will remember that you were raised by a great martial artist and they will testify your good deeds in this world."

Goku couldn't have expected a better answer. He felt a sudden warm in his chest. Roshi was right. None of that mattered. Who he was had nothing to do with who he had been born as. And he would keep changing, again and again, until he'd been perfected like his grandpa had.

"Thank you, master."

"You are quite welcome, my lad. Now, a last question. Have you noticed something in common about the tasks I've been giving you?"

Goku tried to see what farming and delivering milk had to do with each other, aside from being boring. Then it came to him. If you always give, you'll always have. "We've been helping people," he answered. "We helped that old man and the farmer. And we gave people their milk."

Roshi stood up. "I believe you've passed to the next level. Welcome to Sakadagami, where there is no place for self importance, clinging or doubt. Enjoy your swim, Goku, and be back in time for dinner or you'll have none."  
***

The first task of the second level was maybe the worst. Roshi tied Goku to a tree and poked a beehive. "So you can learn to dodge attacks in a small perimeter," he said. "Improve your reflexes. Avoid being stung."

Easy to say—impossible to do.

The furious bees began to buzz around him. A stabbing pain shot through his left hand. Goku moved as swiftly as he could, but there wasn't much he could do, tied to the tree as he was. The rope only stretched so far, and it was by no means far enough.

He felt a second sting on his cheek, a third on his neck. He could feel the lumps forming. He tried to kill some of them but it was impossible without being stung.

That seemed to go on for hours. Half the bees were dead and the other half had flown away when Roshi finally untied Goku from the tree and gave him some ointment to put on his skin. "Have you learned anything from that?"

"Never mess with bees?" Goku said, distracted by the relief the balm brought him. 

Roshi shook his head. "Small as it is, the bee has all the vital organs."

"What does that mean?" growled Goku, suddenly not interested in Roshi's wisdom.

"It means, lad, that all lives matter. And they'll defend themselves with all they’ve got."  
***

The next day, Goku was woken even earlier—it was still night. "What the—?"

"Come on, Goku," called Roshi, energetically. "The early bird catches the worm!"

In the living room, Goku found a gift waiting for him. His very own purple turtle hull.

"You'll wear this every minute of the day from now on," said Roshi. "You may take it off to sleep. This will add 40 pounds to your everyday tasks."

Goku grimaced. "When are you going to teach me your secret techniques?" he mumbled. "I'm ready."

A shadow crossed Roshi's face. "You're only ready if I say you're ready."

"And when will that be? After months of delivering milk?" Goku would've said more but he held his tongue when he saw his master's hard expression.

"Da Mo said that he would teach Shen Guang when red snow fell from the sky. You can't even control your own temper, boy. A martial artist must master his own body and mind. You are not there yet." Goku kept his mouth shut and put on the turtle hull. "That's what the Sakadagami will do for you. Times are difficult, Goku, and hard work is necessary. What you learn from my teachings is entirely up to you."

Goku nodded.

"Let's go outside. Today you're going to dig me a well."

"A well?"

"On the Drum Mountain, Da Mo dug a well. The water of this well was bitter. Da Mo left Shen Guang on the Drum Mountain and, for an entire year, Shen Guang used the bitter water of the well to take care of all of his needs. He used it to cook, to clean, to bathe, to do everything. For a month that's what you'll do as well."

Goku felt his shoulders slump but he knew he had no choice. Grandpa is watching, he reminded himself. He will be proud of me. So he went outside and by the Drum Mountain he dug a well. The water he found wasn't as bad as he had expected. Roshi made him live with that water only until the month had come to an end.

"Da Mo made Shen Guang dig several wells, you know?" said Roshi. "And after all the digging was done, Shen Guang realized that the four wells represented his life. Like the wells, his life would sometimes be bitter, sometimes sour, sometimes spicy and sometimes sweet. Each of these phases in his life was equally beautiful and necessary, just as each of the four seasons of the year is beautiful and necessary in its own way. Without really saying many words to Shen Guang, Da Mo had taught Shen Guang the most important of lessons."

Goku was left in awe for the master. For a bad pervert, the turtle hermit seemed to know a lot. Goku wondered how old Roshi really was.  
***

Five months flew by after that. Roshi's training got harder and harder, but Goku got stronger and stronger. He soon grew used to the training and it started to require less and less of his emotional distress. He didn't feel like Roshi was punishing him anymore. He didn't resent the work he had to do.

"That is why you've passed yet another level of my training," said Roshi when Goku voiced his new feelings. "The third part, the Anagami, doesn't allow ill-will. Your mind needs to be pure. Thoughts connected to greed, hatred and delusion, must never arise."

"What will I do today?" Goku asked. He felt good, eager. He assumed it had something to do with the pure mind and everything else. He felt cleansed and relaxed.

"Let's go back to Da Mo," said Roshi. "When he was nearing the location of the Shaolin Temple, the Shaolin monks had heard of his approach and were gathered to meet him. When Da Mo arrived, the Shaolin monks greeted him and invited him to come stay at the temple. Da Mo did not reply but he went to a cave on a mountain behind the Shaolin Temple, sat down, and began meditating. Da Mo sat facing a wall in the cave and meditated for nine years. After some time, Da Mo's concentration became so intense that his image was engraved into the stone of the wall before him."

Goku was suddenly aghast. "I'll have to face a wall for nine years?!" 

Roshi laughed and shook his head. "No, boy. For nine hours a day."

That was better, Goku thought, although not much. "Okay. Until when?"

"Until I say so," shrugged Roshi. "Now, the rules. It has to be inside the Sword Mountain. You mustn’t lean over the walls or lie down. You must sit with your back upright. Eyes closed or open, that’s up to you. You mustn’t speak the entire time you're in there, nor eat or drink, or focus on anything else but the wall before you. Is that clear?"

Goku nodded, already bored out of his mind, but trying to look pure-minded. 

"Then you may go."  
***

Another month dragged by until Roshi decided Goku would never have to see the inside of Sword Mountain again. That gave a boost to Goku's mood. He had been dreaming of the rocky wall by now, every night. It was all he could see. He thought he would lose his mind.

A day came then, when Roshi gave Goku leave to rest or do whatever he wished. "No training today," he said. "Your first official day off."

Goku thought about that. The master seemed to be resigned to lie on a net and daydream. Launch was planting a flower garden near the five mountains. What should Goku do? He didn't feel like staying still. He had worked hard for a long time—being idle was no longer in his nature.

Suddenly it was clear to him what he should do. Something he should’ve done a long time ago. The only thing that was missing in his training, the one thing in which he had failed. Making up his mind, Goku went into the woods where he looked and looked all day until he finally found the oval shaped stone with the hermit's mark on it. He brought it back with a smile on his face. 

Master Roshi couldn't quite believe it. "Well done, Goku,” he praised. “Well done. I guess this officially brings you to Arhat, the fourth and last level of your training. All conceit, restlessness and ignorance were left behind. Like Guanyin, you've been perfected. You know, she vowed never to rest until she had freed all sentient beings from reincarnation. Despite strenuous efforts, she realized that there were still many unhappy beings yet to be saved. And after struggling to comprehend the needs of so many, her head split into eleven pieces."

"Whoa," said Goku. 

"Whoa, indeed,” Roshi agreed. “Filled with compassion, she returned to Earth, vowing never to leave till such time as all suffering has ended. Thanks to her endurance of all indignities and her spirit of self-sacrifice, she could enter into Nirvana and became Goddess of Mercy."

"Is that my next lesson?" asked Goku, interested. "How to be merciful?"

Roshi studied Goku with kind eyes. "I have nothing else to teach you, lad."

Goku's jaw hit the ground. "What?"

"My methods, Goku, are basically the training you've been doing. Without even realizing it, you’ve got the whole basis of my teaching. The rest is just an extension of what you already know. Like most things, it’ll come to you in time."

"I don't get it,” the boy admitted. 

Roshi tried to explain. "The purpose of martial arts is to make body and soul become one,” he said. “The Sotapanna made you stop worrying about who you are and focus on what you can become. The Sakadagami vanquished your anger and your resentment toward the hardships I was putting you through. And the Anagami reminded you that strength of body hardly matters if you don't possess strength of mind.” The master smiled. “What drives you from now on, shouldn’t be winning the Budokai Tenkaichi, but to get an experience with the struggles that you'll live. So until the tournament, you'll keep on doing what you've been doing, except the Arhat allows you complete freedom to train as you see fit. Congratulations."


End file.
